might have been swept away, any or all except Fanny and
William, and Lady Bertram would have thought little about it; or perhaps
might have caught from Mrs. Norris's lips the cant of its being a very
happy thing and a great blessing to their poor dear sister Price to have
them so well provided for.

CHAPTER XLV

At about the week's end from his return to Mansfield, Tom's immediate
danger was over, and he was so far pronounced safe as to make his mother
perfectly easy; for being now used to the sight of him in his suffering,
helpless state, and hearing only the best, and never thinking beyond
what she heard, with no disposition for alarm and no aptitude at a hint,
Lady Bertram was the happiest subject in the world for a little medical
imposition. The fever was subdued; the fever had been his complaint;
of course he would soon be well again. Lady Bertram could think nothing
less, and Fanny shared her aunt's security, till she received a few
lines from Edmund, written purposely to give her a clearer idea of his
brother's situation, and acquaint her with the apprehensions which
he and his father had imbibed from the physician with respect to some
strong hectic symptoms, which seemed to seize the frame on the departure
of the fever. They judged it best that Lady Bertram should not be
harassed by alarms which, it was to be hoped, would prove unfounded;
but there was no reason why Fanny should not know the truth. They were
apprehensive for his lungs.

A very few lines from Edmund shewed her the patient and the sickroom
in a juster and stronger light than all Lady Bertram's sheets of paper
could do. There was hardly any one in the house who might not have
described, from personal observation, better than herself; not one who
was not more useful at times to her son. She could do nothing but glide
in quietly and look at him; but when able to talk or be talked to, or
read to, Edmund was the companion he preferred. His aunt worried him by
her cares, and Sir Thomas knew not how to bring down his conversation or
his voice to the level of irritation and feebleness. Edmund was all in
all. Fanny would certainly believe him so at least, and must find that
her estimation of him was higher than ever when he appeared as the
attendant, supporter, cheerer of a suffering brother. There was not only
the debility of recent illness to assist: there was also, as she now
learnt, nerves much affected, spirits much depressed to calm and raise,