The following is from A Belle of the Fifties by Virginia Clay-Clopton. She doesn't give a date, but the event clearly took place before June 1861. "Professor" Maury (she seems to have forgotten his full name, Matthew Fontaine Maury) was still the director of the Naval Observatory in Washington at the time of the visit she describes. I find her description of Mr. Maury rather unkind.
I remember an amusing visit paid by a party from our mess to the observatory of Professor Maury. It was an occasion of special interest. Jupiter was displaying his brilliancy in a marvelous way. For no particular reason, in so far as I could see, the Professor's great telescope seemed to require adjusting for the benefit of each of the bevy present. I noticed Professor Maury's eye twinkling as he went on with this necessary (?) preliminary, asking betimes: "What do you see? Nothing clearly? Well, permit me!" And after several experiments he would secure, at last, the right focus. When all of his guests had been treated to a satisfactory view of the wonders of the sky, Professor Maury delivered himself somewhat as follows:
"Now, ladies, whilst you have been studying the heavenly bodies, I have been studying you!" and the quizzical expression deepened in his eye.
"Go on," we assented.
"Well," said the Professor, "I have a bill before Congress," (mentioning its nature) "and if you ladies don't influence your husbands to vote for it, I intend to publish the ages of each and every one of you to the whole of Washington!"