I believe that was the opinion of the 'advanced' women of the nineteenth century, and their male backers.

If it is yours, I recommend to your notice an old Norwegian folk-lore tale called How the Man minded the House, or some such title; the result of which minding was that, after various tribulations, the man and the family cow balanced each other at the end of a rope, the man hanging halfway up the chimney, the cow dangling from the roof, which, after the fashion of the country, was of turf and sloping down low to the ground.

Hard on the cow, _I_ think.

Of course no such mishap could happen to such a superior person as yourself," he added, chuckling.
I sat somewhat uneasy under this dry gibe.

Indeed, his manner of treating this latter part of the question seemed to me a little disrespectful.
"Come, now, my friend," quoth he, "don't you know that it is a great pleasure to a clever woman to manage a house skilfully, and to do it so that all the house-mates about her look pleased, and are grateful to her?
And then, you know, everybody likes to be ordered about by a pretty woman: why, it is one of the pleasantest forms of flirtation.