k, his light-coloured eyes were
peculiarly light and calm, his complexion was peculiarly soft and white,
the red in his cheeks was too bright and clear, his teeth were like
pearls, and his lips like coral--one would have thought that he must
be a paragon of beauty, yet at the same time there seemed something
repellent about him. It was said that his face suggested a mask; so much
was said though, among other things they talked of his extraordinary
physical strength. He was rather tall. Varvara Petrovna looked at him
with pride, yet with continual uneasiness. He spent about six months
among us--listless, quiet, rather morose. He made his appearance in
society, and with unfailing propriety performed all the duties demanded
by our provincial etiquette. He was related, on his father's side, to
the governor, and was received by the latter as a near kinsman. But a
few months passed and the wild beast showed his claws.

I may observe by the way, in parenthesis, that Ivan Ossipovitch, our
dear mild governor, was rather like an old woman, though he was of good
family and highly connected--which explains the fact that he remained so
long among us, though he steadily avoided all the duties of his office.
From his munificence and hospitality he ought rather to have been a
marshal of nobility of the good old days than a governor in such busy
times as ours. It was always said in the town that it was not he, but
Varvara Petrovna who governed the province. Of course this was said
sarcastically; however, it was certainly a falsehood. And, indeed, much
wit was wasted on the subject among us. On the contrary, in later years,
Varvara Petrovna purposely and consciously withdrew from anything like
a position of authority, and, in spite of the extraordinary respect
in which she was held by the whole province, voluntarily confined her
influence within strict limits set up by herself. Instead of these
higher responsibilities she suddenly took up the management of her
estate, and, within two or three years, raised the revenue from it
almost to what it had yielded in the past. Giving up her former romantic
impulses (trips to Petersburg, plans for founding a magazine, and so
on) she began to be careful and to save money. She kept even Stepan
Trofimovitch at a distance, allowing him to take lodgings in another
house (a change for which he had long been worrying her under various
pretexts). Little by little Stepan Trofimovitch began to call her a
pr