Bellamy's was not only the eating-place of Parliament; it also partook of some of the qualities of the modern smoking-room as a refuge from debate. The sudden concourse of members who came hurrying into the kitchen as soon as a bore rose to his feet in the House has been amusingly described by Sheil in his essay on John Leslie Foster. Poor Mr. Foster seems to have exercised an extraordinarily clearing effect upon the House. The first words of his speech were the signal for a unanimous excursion of his fellows, and he was left in full possession of that solitude which he ever had the unrivalled power of creating. Members hastened to the kitchen where the tiresome voice of the parliamentary bore could not penetrate, and there indulged themselves in conversation, eked out with tea or stronger beverages. "The scene which Bellamy's presents to a stranger is striking enough," says Sheil. "Two smart girls, whose briskness and neat attire made up for their want of beauty, and for the invasions of time, of which their cheeks showed the traces, helped out tea in a room in the corridor. It was pleasant to observe the sons of dukes and marquises, and the possessors of twenties and thirties of thousands a year, gathered round these damsels, and soliciting a cup of that beverage which it was their office to administer. These Bellamy barmaids seemed so familiarized with their occupation that they went through it with perfect nonchalance, and would occasionally turn with petulance, in which they asserted the superiority of their sex to rank and opulence, from the noble or wealthy suitors for a draught of tea, by whom they were surrounded." The unfortunate Irish members, we are told, were regarded with a peculiar disdain, being continually reminded of their provinciality by the scornful looks of these parliamentary Hebes, who treated them "as mere colonial deputies should be received in the purlieus of the State." Dickens, too, describes how one of the waitresses, Jane by name, who was something of a character, would playfully dig the handle of a fork into the arm of some too amorous member who sought to detain her.[121] "I passed from these ante-chambers to the tavern," continues Sheil, "where I found a number of members assembled at dinner. Half an hour had passed away, tooth-picks and claret were now beginning to appear, and the business of mastication being concluded, that of digestion had commenced, and many an honourable gentleman, I observed, seemed to prove that he was born only to digest. At the end of a long corridor which opened from the room where the diners were assembled, there stood a waiter, whose office it was to inform any interrogator what gentleman was speaking below stairs. Nearly opposite the door sat two English county members. They had disposed of a bottle each, and just as the last glass was emptied, one of them called out to the annunciator at the end of the passage for intelligence. 'Mr. Foster on his legs,' was the formidable