"No. Philip was kind enough to die before I got really bored," I snapped back. Arabella gasped. "I'm joking, of course, Arabella. Try not to choke on your muffin."

"I'm horrified to hear you speak of your husband that way," Emma said coldly. "Lord Ashton was one of the best men with whom I've been acquainted."

"The noblest man I ever met," Arabella agreed.

"I should think you would take more care to honor his memory," Emma continued, fingering her hideous brown gloves as she spoke.

"I must confess that I am a trifle nervous about my wedding," Ivy interrupted, valiantly changing the subject. "I don't know what to expect as a wife. Robert has always been very kind to me, and my parents are delighted with the match. I'm sure we'll be happy, but I cannot imagine what my life will be like."

"He has a wonderful house," Arabella said, taking another cake off the tea table. "And you're sure to have a generous allowance."

"Ivy's father will ensure that," I said.

"You must listen carefully to everything your mother tells you before the wedding, my dear," Emma said, her tone all seriousness. "There are things about marriage you will find immensely shocking. She will be able to tell you what you need in order to cope and to bear what you must."

"I'm certain it's terrible," Arabella said, her cowlike eyes wide open. "My sister locked herself in her room and refused to come out for three days after her wedding."

"You should never speak of it, Arabella," Emma said, looking at her friend sharply. "It is enough that she be alerted to the situation so that her mother can prepare her."

"Don't be ridiculous," I snapped. I knew Emma well enough to expect that she would try to insult me whenever the opportunity presented itself; it did not bother me in the least. Ivy, however, being much more sensitive than I am, would not be able to hold her own against Emma's malicious talk.