_Fred._ (alone.) It may remain there, I will not touch it; I will not look at it. (Going from the band-box.) Sure, there are some articles of dress for me in it. It is odd that they will not leave us as we wish, to our own wishes. (Draws a step nearer.) It may not be for me perhaps. (Reads the direction at a distance.) To Miss Frederica Clarenbach; but it is addressed to me, I see! If any person,--if Gernau should happen to come in, I must remove the box. (Takes hold of it.) Quite light! as light as a feather! What does it contain? What is that to me? (Takes it up, and walks a few paces.) If Gernau should now meet me, it would look as if I wanted to conceal something. Dear me! (Places it at some distance on the floor,) my brother must have sent it! Somebody that has a right to do so, the fellow said; that must be my brother, and so I may look at it. Besides, my father will certainly send back the furniture, and then this may bear the rest company. Now, if I should not even look at it, it would seem as if I despised my brother. No, I will open and look at the things; but certainly I will keep none. (Kneels down, cuts the strings, opens the lid, and starts up in surprise.) Ay dear! how pretty! (Kneels down again.) A cloak! O what beautiful lace! hem! why, a cloak is not too gay for tradesfolks; I think it is part of their dress; I may keep it. (Puts it on.) As if it had been made for me! (Kneels down again.) A hat! a very pretty one indeed!--but a feather,--no, God forbid! (Pause.) All but that feather,--I might wear it without a feather. A new hat, I wonder how I look in it! (Puts it on, and then steps up to the glass.) Pretty well;--and the cap under the hat,--that looks like the picture of the handsome English lady at my brother's. (Returns to the box.) What is that red stuff? (Takes out a gown.) Rose-Colour! (Astonished, calls out aloud.) Satin! (The gown drops on the floor?) Satin! God forbid I should wear satin! That is too gaudy, too glossy, too shewy; it would draw all the neighbours to their windows. (Takes up the gown.) I hope I have spoiled nothing. (Hangs it over a chair, kneels down, and continues to examine the box.) SCENE VIII. Enter SOPHIA REISSMAN. Sophia knocks. Frederica screams, and covers her face with her hands. _Soph._ (comes in.) Any good people in this house? (Fred. rises and curtesies, her eyes cast down.) They must be all dead, as no one is to be found. _Fred._ I am quite alone in the house, madam. _Soph._ Do you know me, sweet girl? _Fred._ You are, Miss--yes--but-- _Soph._ Reissman. The Aulic Counsellor Reissman's daughter. _Fred._ So; I am glad; I know it well enough; but pray do me the favour to be seated. _Soph._ My visit will be but short. I am come to form an acquaintance with the sister of a gentleman who is not indifferent to me, as you may know perhaps. _Fred._ We have been told, that he is to have the honour--