Varvara tried to please the Head-Master's wife, but her red hands and chapped lips still trembled with fear. This embarrassed Madame Khripatch. She tried to be even more gracious, but an involuntary fastidiousness overcame her. By her whole attitude she showed Varvara that there could never be a close acquaintance between them. But she did this so graciously that Varvara did not understand, and imagined that she and Madame Khripatch would become great friends.
Khripatch had the look of a man out of his element, but he concealed the fact skilfully and manfully. He refused the Madeira on the ground that he was not used to drinking wine at that hour of the day. He talked about the local news, about the approaching changes in the composition of the district court. But it was very noticeable that he and Peredonov moved in different circles of local society.
They did not make a long visit. Varvara was glad when they left; they just came and went. She said with relief as she took off her clothes:
"Well, thank God they've gone. I didn't know what to talk to them about. When you don't know people you can't tell how to get at them."
Suddenly she remembered that when the Khripatches left they had not invited her to their house. This distressed her at first, but afterwards she thought:
"They'll send a card with a note when to come. Gentry like them have a time for everything. I suppose I ought to have a go at French. I can't even say 'Pa' and 'Ma' in French."
When they got home the Head-Master's wife said to her husband:
"She's simply pitiful, and hopelessly vulgar; it's utterly impossible to be on equal terms with her. There's nothing in her to correspond with her position."
Khripatch replied:
"She fully corresponds with her husband. I'm impatiently waiting for them to take him away from us."