The family were not consumptive, and she [Fanny] was more inclined to hope than fear for her cousin [Tom], except when she thought of Miss Crawford; but Miss Crawford gave her the idea of being the child of good luck, and to her selfishness and vanity it would be good luck to have Edmund the only son. (45)

Fanny’s prescience does her credit and it is not long before a letter from Mary with just such a sentiment arrives to disgust. Mary writes of trembling, melancholy and agitation at the thought of “such a fine young man cut off in the flower of his days” (45) but her tone is a sickening combination of bravo, calculation and playfulness:

Fanny, Fanny, I see you smile and look cunning, but, upon my honour, I never bribed a physician in my life. Poor young man! If he is to die, there will be two poor young men less in the world; and with a fearless face and bold voice would I say to any one, that wealth and consequence could fall into no hands more deserving of them. It was a foolish precipitation last Christmas… Varnish and gilding hide many stains. It will be but the loss of the Esquire after his name. With real affection, Fanny, like mine, more might be overlooked… And now, do not trouble yourself to be ashamed of either my feelings or your own. Believe me, they are not only natural, they are philanthropic and virtuous. I put it to your conscience, whether ‘Sir Edmund’ would not do more good with all the Bertram property than any other possible ‘Sir.’ (45)

I think perhaps the “there will be two poor young men less in the world” is the worst because it is so much a joke but Edmund’s sudden rehabilitation at the rumor of Tom’s impending death is also chilling. Fanny describes it, ‘Edmund would be forgiven for being a clergyman, it seemed, under certain conditions of wealth’ (45). I am glad Fanny later passes this to Edmund:

Fanny, now at liberty to speak openly, felt more than justified in adding to his knowledge of her real character, by some hint of what share his brother’s state of health might be supposed to have in her wish for a complete reconciliation. This was not an agreeable intimation. Nature resisted it for a while. It would have been a vast deal pleasanter to have had her more disinterested in her attachment; but his vanity was not of a strength to fight long against reason. He submitted to believe that Tom’s illness had influenced her, only reserving for himself this consoling thought, that considering the many counteractions of opposing habits, she had certainly been more attached to him than could have been expected, and for his sake been more near doing right. Fanny thought exactly the same… (47)