"Where did you get your commission?" Norton asked.
David hesitated, and then said, "Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you—"
"But that's absolute nonsense!" exclaimed Mrs. Bartholomew.
"What, mamma?" said David, lifting his eyes to her face.
"I mean, of course, the words are not nonsense, but putting such a meaning to them."
"What meaning do you think belongs to them, then, mamma?"
"Why," said Mrs. Bartholomew in high dudgeon, "if you are to take them so, then we ought to send our carriage to take poor people to drive, and we ought to give our grapes and our wine to sick people, instead of eating them ourselves; and I ought to sell my diamonds and change them into bread and coffee and feather beds, I suppose; and our silks and laces ought to go for rents and firing for those who are in want."
"Well, mother?" said David.
"Well; is that what you mean?"
"That's what the words mean, if they mean anything, mamma. I think the King wants all we have got, to be used in his work; and all mine he shall have."