abrupt and at the same time indifferent in his behaviour, his way of
speaking through his teeth, his sudden wooden laugh, the absence of
smiles, his exclusively political or politic-economical conversation,
his passion for roast beef and port wine--everything about him breathed,
so to speak, of Great Britain. But, marvelous to relate, while he had
been transformed into an Anglomaniac, Ivan Petrovitch had at the same
time become a patriot, at least he called himself a patriot, though he
knew Russia little, had not retained a single Russian habit, and
expressed himself in Russian rather queerly; in ordinary conversation,
his language was spiritless and inanimate and constantly interspersed
with Gallicisms.

Ivan Petrovitch brought with him a few schemes in manuscript, relating
to the administration and reform of the government; he was much
displeased with everything he saw; the lack of system especially aroused
his spleen. On his meeting with his sister, at the first word he
announced to her that he was determined to introduce radical reforms,
that henceforth everything to do with him would be on a different
system. Glafira Petrovna made no reply to Ivan Petrovitch; she only
ground her teeth and thought: "Where am I to take refuge?" After she was
back in the country, however, with her brother and nephew, her fears
were soon set at rest. In the house, certainly, some changes were made;
idlers and dependants met with summary dismissal; among them two old
women were made to suffer, one blind, another broken down by paralysis;
and also a decrepit major of the days of Catherine, who, on account of
his really abnormal appetite, was fed on nothing but black bread and
lentils. The order went forth not to admit the guests of former days;
they were replaced by a distant neighbour, a certain fair-haired,
scrofulous baron, a very well educated and very stupid man. New
furniture was brought from Moscow; spittoons were introduced, and bells