Mr Bristles was also of the dinner party--an arrangement made by the provident Miss Hendy, that the two _millionaires_ might receive a little preliminary information on the merits of the rest of the company, who were only invited to tea. Four maiden ladies (who had pulled on blue stockings in order to hide the increasing thickness of their ankles, and considered Miss Hendy the legitimate successor of Madame de Staël, and Mr Pitskiver in Harley Street the beau-ideal of love in a cottage) relieved the monotony of a gentleman party by as profuse a display of female charms as low gowns and short sleeves would allow. And about six o'clock there was a highly interesting and superior party of eight, to whom Miss Hendy administered cod's-head and shoulders, aphorisms and oyster sauce, in almost equal proportion; while Mr Pitskiver, like a "sweet seducer, blandly smiling," made polite enquiries whether he should not relieve her of the trouble.--"Oh no!--it degrades woman from the lofty sphere of equal usefulness with the rougher sex. Why shouldn't a lady help fish?--Why should she confess her inferiority? The post assigned to her by nature--though usurped by man--is to elevate by her example, to enlighten by her precepts, and to add to the great aggregate of human felicity by a manifestation of all the virtues;" saying this, she inserted her knife with astonishing dexterity just under the gills--and looked round for approbation.
Mr Pitskiver had recourse to his usual expedient, and said something about the feast of reason; Mr Whalley shook his head in a way that would have made his fortune in a grocer's window in the character of Howqua; and Mr Bristles prepared himself to reply--while the four literary maidens turned their eyes on Aristarchus in expectation of hearing something fine. "I decidedly am of opinion," said that great man, "that woman's sphere is greatly misunderstood, and that you maintain the dignity of your glorious sex by carving the fish.--Yet on being further interrogated, I should be inclined to proceed with my statement, and assert that you deprive us of pleasure, in debarring us from giving you our assistance."
"Then, why don't you help us with our samplers? why don't you aid us in our knitting? why don't you assist us in hemming garments?"--exclaimed Miss Hendy, digging her spoon into the oyster-boat.