Becky laughed; she was almost always good-humoured. "That was when I was on my promotion, Goosey," she said. "Take Rawdon outside with you and give him a cigar too if you like."
Rawdon did not warm his little son for the winter's journey in this way, but he and Briggs wrapped up the child in shawls and comforters, and he was hoisted respectfully onto the roof of the coach in the dark morning, under the lamps of the White Horse Cellar; and with no small delight he watched the dawn rise and made his first journey to the place which his father still called home. It was a journey of infinite pleasure to the boy, to whom the incidents of the road afforded endless interest, his father answering to him all questions connected with it and telling him who lived in the great white house to the right, and whom the park belonged to. His mother, inside the vehicle, with her maid and her furs, her wrappers, and her scent bottles, made such a to-do that you would have thought she never had been in a stage-coach before--much less, that she had been turned out of this very one to make room for a paying passenger on a certain journey performed some half-score years ago.
It was dark again when little Rawdon was wakened up to enter his uncle's carriage at Mudbury, and he sat and looked out of it wondering as the great iron gates flew open, and at the white trunks of the limes as they swept by, until they stopped, at length, before the light windows of the Hall, which were blazing and comfortable with Christmas welcome. The hall-door was flung open--a big fire was burning in the great old fire-place--a carpet was down over the chequered black flags--"It's the old Turkey one that used to be in the Ladies' Gallery," thought Rebecca, and the next instant was kissing Lady Jane.
She and Sir Pitt performed the same salute with great gravity; but Rawdon, having been smoking, hung back rather from his sister-in-law, whose two children came up to their cousin; and, while Matilda held out her hand and kissed him, Pitt Binkie Southdown, the son and heir, stood aloof rather and examined him as a little dog does a big dog.

Becky laughed. "Take Rawdon outside with you and give him a cigar too if you want."
So Rawdon and Briggs wrapped up the child in shawls, and he was hoisted respectfully onto the roof of the coach in the dark morning. With delight he watched the dawn rise and made his first journey to the place which his father still called home. It was a journey of infinite pleasure to the boy, to whom the incidents of the road gave endless interest, his father answering all his questions and telling him who lived where. His mother stayed inside the vehicle with her maid and her furs and her scent bottles.
It was dark again when little Rawdon was wakened up to enter his uncle's carriage at Mudbury. He looked out of it wondering as the great iron gates flew open, and at the white trunks of the limes as they swept by, until they stopped before the windows of the Hall, which were blazing with Christmas welcome. The hall-door was flung open - a big fire was burning in the great fire-place - a carpet was down over the black flagstones.
Rebecca kissed Lady Jane and Sir Pitt; but Rawdon, having been smoking, hung back from his sister-in-law, whose two children came up to their cousin, young Rawdon. While Matilda kissed him, Pitt Southdown, the son and heir, stood aloof and examined him as a little dog does a big dog.
