“I am much of your way of thinking,” said Anne. “But tell me, what about the book? How do you like it? And why did you want to read it?”
“Mr. Lyndsay happened to say some one was like that woman, Lady Macbeth. Guess I called her Mrs. Macbeth.”
“And who was the some one?”
Dorothy hesitated.
“I was telling him a little about Susie Colkett.”
“Indeed!”
“Yes—she’s an evil-minded one.”
Anne had no suspicion of the seriousness of the story Dorothy had confided to Mr. Lyndsay, and was somewhat amused at the remoteness of the tragic comparison. She set the thing aside, and resolved to ask her brother what he meant. She was now instantly curious as to what effect the drama had had upon a woman like Dorothy.
“If Susan Colkett is as bad as Lady Macbeth, she must be an unpleasant neighbor.”
“There isn’t much to steal here,” said Dorothy, smiling and looking around her; “and I never did see the woman I was afraid of. As for Susie, she’s so bad, she’s—a fool. There wouldn’t be much harm in it if Joe wasn’t the worst fool of the two. She’ll be the losing of that man yet. Two fools can hatch a heap of mischief.”