from old days, in strict conformity with all the usages of the old
orthodox holy Russian mode of life. He got up and went to bed, ate his
meals, and went to his bath, rejoiced or was wroth (both very rarely, it
is true), even smoked his pipe and played cards (two great
innovations!), not after his own fancy, not in a way of his own, but
according to the custom and ordinance of his fathers--with due decorum
and formality. He was tall, well built, and stout; his voice was soft
and rather husky, as is so often the case with virtuous people in
Russia; he was scrupulously neat in his dress and linen, and wore white
cravats and full-skirted snuff-coloured coats, but his noble blood was
nevertheless evident; no one could have taken him for a priest's son or
a merchant! At all times, on all possible occasions, and in all possible
contingencies, Andrei Nikolaevitch knew without fail what ought to be
done, what was to be said, and precisely what expressions were to be
used; he knew when he ought to take medicine, and just what he ought to
take; what omens were to be believed and what might be disregarded ...
in fact, he knew everything that ought to be done.... For as everything
had been provided for and laid down by one's elders, one had only to be
sure not to imagine anything of one's self.... And above all, without
God's blessing not a step to be taken!--It must be confessed that a
deadly dulness reigned supreme in his house, in those low-pitched, warm,
dark rooms, that so often resounded with the singing of liturgies and
all-night services, and had the smell of incense and Lenten dishes
almost always hanging about them!

Andrei Nikolaevitch--no longer in his first youth--married a young
lady of a neighbouring family, without fortune, a very nervous and
sickly person, who had had a boarding-school education. She played the
piano fairly, spoke boarding-school French, was easily moved to
enthusiasm, and still more easily to melancholy and even tears....