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Updated: June 27, 2025
This made coffee for two what would have been necessary in the case of a party, one dares not think. That we did not like the coffee when made, MacShaughnassy attributed to our debased taste the result of long indulgence in an inferior article. He drank both cups himself, and afterwards went home in a cab.
Then comes an alarmingly business-like minute of a meeting at which there were "Present: Jephson, MacShaughnassy, Brown, and Self"; and at which the "Proceedings commenced at 8.30."
"I wonder why it is," murmured MacShaughnassy reflectively, "that bad people are so much more interesting than good." "I don't think the reason is very difficult to find," answered Jephson. "There's more uncertainty about them. They keep you more on the alert. It's like the difference between riding a well-broken, steady-going hack and a lively young colt with ideas of his own.
MacShaughnassy, in particular, was growing every moment more restless and moody. Brown concluded a long discourse to which nobody had listened by remarking with some pride, "What more can you want? The plot has never been used before, and the characters are entirely original!" Then MacShaughnassy gave way.
The final question discussed at our last meeting been: What shall our hero be? MacShaughnassy had suggested an author, with a critic for the villain. My idea was a stockbroker, with an undercurrent of romance in his nature. Said Jephson, who has a practical mind: "The question is not what we like, but what the female novel-reader likes." "That is so," agreed MacShaughnassy.
When MacShaughnassy came along he seemed, in her eyes, a sort of glorified Mrs. Beeton. He knew everything wanted to be known inside a house, from the scientific method of peeling a potato to the cure of spasms in cats, and Ethelbertha would sit at his feet, figuratively speaking, and gain enough information in one evening to make the house unlivable in for a month.
I argued in the negative, and gave the reasons for my disbelief much as I have set them forth here. MacShaughnassy, on the other hand, contended that he did, and instanced the case of himself a man who, in his early days, so he asserted, had been a scatterbrained, impracticable person, entirely without stability.
"First catch your common-sensed girl," muttered Jephson, a little grumpily, as it seemed to me. "Where do you propose finding her?" "Well," returned MacShaughnassy, "I looked to find her in Miss Medbury." As a rule, the mention of Miss Medbury's name brings a flush of joy to Jephson's face; but now his features wore an expression distinctly approaching a scowl. "Oh!" he replied, "did you?
"Besides," I added, "it will make the thing seem more natural if everybody wonders what on earth could have been the reason for their marrying each other." Brown wasted no further words on me, but turned to MacShaughnassy. "Can you imagine our friend Reuben seized with a burning desire to marry Mary Holme?" he asked, with a smile.
Well, then, the common-sensed girl loves the military also." "By Jove!" exclaimed MacShaughnassy, "what an extraordinary thing. What reason does she give?" "That there's a something about them, and that they dance so divinely," answered Jephson, shortly. "Well, you do surprise me," murmured MacShaughnassy, "I am astonished." Then to me he said: "And what does the young married woman say?
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