Mrs. Röst. A lady?—Good heavens, surely it is not—? (Gets up.)
Röst. What do you say? (Gets up.)
Cornelia. She has a veil on.
Mrs. Röst. I really believe—! (To her husband.) You look, my dear—you know her.
Röst. It is she; I recognise her coachman Hans.
Bishop (who has got up). But perhaps it is Miss Aagot?
Cornelia. No, it is not Miss Aagot.—She is in the house by this time. What are we to do?
Mrs. Röst. Has she not had your lordship's letter?
Bishop. Yes, this morning.
Röst. And in spite of that—?