Mary Poppins Opens the Door

CHAPTER 8 THE OTHER DOOR

It was a Round-the-Mulberry-Bush sort of morning, cold and rather frosty. The pale grey daylight crept through the Cherry-Trees and lapped like water over the houses. A little wind moaned through the gardens. It darted across the Park with a whistle and whined along the Lane.

"Brrrrrr!" said Number Seventeen. "What can that wretched wind be doing — howling and fretting around like a ghost! Hi! Stop that, can't you? You're making me shiver!"

"Whe-ew! Whe — ew! What shall I do?" cried the wind, taking no notice.

A raking noise came from inside the house. Robertson Ay was removing the ashes and laying fresh wood in the fireplaces.

"Ah, that's what I need!" said Number Seventeen, as Mary Poppins lit a fire in the Nursery. "Something to warm my chilly old bones. There goes that mournful wind again! I wish it would howl somewhere else!"

"Whe — ee! Whe — ee! When will it be?" sobbed the wind among the Cherry-Trees.

The Nursery fire sprang up with a crackle. Behind their bars the bright flames danced and shone on the window-pane. Robertson Ay slouched down to the broom cupboard to take a rest from his morning labours. Mary Poppins bustled about, as usual, airing the clothes and preparing the breakfast.

Jane had wakened before anyone else, for the howl of the wind had disturbed her. And now she sat on the window-seat, sniffing the delicious scent of toast and watching her reflection in the window. Half of the Nursery shone in the garden, a room made entirely of light. The flames of the fire were warm on her back but another fire leapt and glowed before her. It danced in the air between the houses beneath the reflection of the mantelpiece. Out there another rocking-horse was tossing his dappled head; and from the other side of the window another Jane watched and nodded and smiled. When Jane breathed on the window-pane and drew a face in the misty circle, her reflection did the very same thing. And all the time she was breathing and drawing, she could see right through herself. Behind the face that smiled at her were the bare black boughs of the Cherry-Trees, and right through the middle of her body was the wall of Miss Lark's house.

Presently the front door banged and Mr. Banks went away to the City. Mrs. Banks hurried into the drawing-room to answer the morning's letters. Down in the kitchen Mrs. Brill was having a kipper for breakfast. Ellen had caught another cold and was busily blowing her nose. And up in the Nursery the fire went pop! and Mary Poppins' apron went crackle! Altogether, except for the wind outside, it was a peaceful morning.

Not for very long, however. For Michael burst in with a sudden rush and stood in the doorway in his pajamas. His eyes had a silver, sleepy look as he stood there staring at Mary Poppins. He stared at her face and he stared at her feet with an earnest, measuring, searching gaze that missed out no part of her. Then he said "Oh!" in a disappointed voice and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Well? What's the matter with you?" she enquired. "Lost sixpence and found a penny?"

He shook his head dejectedly. "I dreamed you had turned into a beautiful princess. And here you are just the same as ever!"

She bridled and gave her head a toss. "Handsome is as Handsome does!" she said with a haughty sniff. "I'm perfectly well as I am, thank you! I'm satisfied, if you're not."

He flew to her side and tried to appease her.

"Oh, I am satisfied, Mary Poppins!" he said eagerly. "I just thought that if the dream had come true it would be — er — a sort of a change."

"Change!" she exclaimed with another sniff. "You'll get all the changes you want soon enough — I promise you, Michael Banks!"

He looked at her uneasily. What did she mean by that, he wondered.

"I was only joking, Mary Poppins. I don't want any changes, really! I only want you — for always!"

And suddenly it seemed to him that princesses were very silly creatures with nothing to be said in their favour.

"Humph!" said Mary Poppins crossly, as she planked the toast on the table. "You can't have anything for always — and don't you think it, sir!"

"Except you!" he retorted confidently, smiling his mischievous smile.

A strange expression came over her face. But Michael did not notice it. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen what Jane was doing. And now he was climbing up beside her to breathe on another patch of window.

"Look!" he said proudly. "I'm drawing a ship. And there's another Michael outside drawing one igzactly like it!"

"Um-hum!" said Jane, without looking up, as she gazed at her own reflection. Then suddenly she turned away and called to Mary Poppins.

"Which is the real me, Mary Poppins? The one in here or the one out there?"

With a bowl of porridge in her hand, Mary Poppins came and stood between them. Each time she breathed, her apron crackled, and the steam from the bowl went up with a puff. In silence she looked at her own reflection and smiled a satisfied smile.

Then: " — Is this a riddle?" she demanded, sniffing.

"No, Mary Poppins," Jane said eagerly. "It's something I want to know."

For a moment they thought, as they looked at her, that she might be going to tell them. Then, apparently, she thought better of it, for she gave her head a scornful toss and turned away to the table.

"I don't know about you," she said, conceitedly, "but I'm glad to say that I'm real wherever I happen to be! Dress yourself, Michael, if you please! And Jane, you come to breakfast!"

Under the gleam of those steely eyes they hurried to obey her. And by the time breakfast was over and they were sitting on the floor building a Castle out of rubber bricks, they had quite forgotten their reflections. Indeed, had they looked, they would not have found them, for the fire had settled to a rosy glow and the bright flames had gone.

"That's better!" said Number Seventeen, snuggling closer into the earth.

The warmth from the fire crept through its bones and the house came alive as Mary Poppins went scuttling about it.

Today she seemed even busier than usual. She sorted the clothes and tidied the drawers, sewed on odd buttons and mended socks. She put fresh papers on the shelves; let down the hems of Jane's and Barbara's frocks; and stitched new elastics into John's hat and Michael's. She collected Annabel's old clothes and made them into a bundle for Mrs. Brill's niece's baby. She cleaned out cupboards, sorted the toys and put the books straight in the bookcases.

"How busy she is! It makes me quite giddy!" said Michael in a whisper.

But Jane said nothing. She gazed at the crackly, bustling figure. And a thought that she could not quite get hold of was wandering round in her mind. Something — was it a memory? — whispered a word that she couldn't quite catch.

And all through the morning, the Starling sat on the Next Door chimney and screeched his endless song. Every now and then he would dart across the garden and peer through the window at Mary Poppins with bright anxious eyes. And the wind went round and round the house, sighing and crying.

The hours went by and lunch time came. And still Mary Poppins went on bustling like a very tidy tornado. She put fresh daffodils in the jam-jar; she straightened the furniture and shook out the curtains. The children felt the Nursery tremble beneath her ministering hand.

"Will she never stop!" Michael complained to Jane, as he added a room to the Castle.

And at that moment, as though Mary Poppins had heard what he said, she suddenly stood still.

"There!" she exclaimed, as she looked at her handiwork. "It's as Neat as a Pin. And I hope it remains so!"

Then she took down her best blue coat and brushed it. She breathed on the buttons to make them shine and pinned the starfish brooch on her collar. She tweaked and pulled at her black straw hat till the daisies stood up as stiff as soldiers. Then she took off her white crackling apron and buckled the snakeskin belt round her waist. The message written on it was clearly visible: "A Present from the Zoo."

"You haven't worn that for a long, long time," said Michael, watching with interest.

"I keep it for Best," she replied calmly, as she twitched the belt into place.

Then she took her umbrella from the corner and polished the parrot-head with bees' wax. And after that, with a quiet smile, she plucked the Tape Measure from the mantelpiece and popped it into the pocket of her coat.

Jane lifted her head quickly. Somehow, the sight of that bulging pocket made her feel strangely anxious.

"Why don't you leave the Tape Measure there? It's perfectly safe, Mary Poppins."

There was a pause. Mary Poppins appeared to be considering the question.

"I have my reasons," she said at last, as she gave a superior sniff.

"But it's always been on the mantelpiece, ever since you came back!"

"That doesn't mean that it always will be. What's good for Monday won't do for Friday," she replied with her priggish smile.

Jane turned away. What was the matter with her heart? It suddenly felt too big for her chest.

"I'm lonely," she said in a whisper to Michael, taking care not to look at him.

"You can't be lonely as long as I'm here!" he put his last brick on the roof of the Castle.

"It's not that kind of loneliness. I feel I'm going to lose something."

"Perhaps it's your tooth," he said, with interest. "TVy it and see if it wobbles."

Jane shook her head quickly. Whatever it was she was going to lose, she knew it was not a tooth.

"Oh, for just one more brick!" sighed Michael. "Everything's done but the chimney!"

Mary Poppins came swiftly across the room.

"There you are! That's what it needs!" she said. And she stooped and put one of her own dominoes in the place where the chimney should be.

"Hooray! It's completely finished!" he cried, glancing up at her with delight. Then he saw that she had placed the box of dominoes beside him. The sight of them made him queerly uneasy.

"You mean—" he said, swallowing. "You mean — we may keep them?"

He had always wanted those dominoes. But never before had Mary Poppins allowed him to touch her possessions. What did it mean? It was so unlike her. And suddenly, as she nodded at him, he, too, felt a pang of loneliness.

"Oh!" he broke out, with an anxious wail. "What's wrong, Mary Poppins? What can be the matter?"

"Wrong!" Her eyes snapped angrily. "I give you a nice respectable present and that's all the thanks I get! What's wrong indeed! I'll know better next time."

He rushed at her wildly and clutched her hand. "Oh, I didn't mean that, Mary Poppins! I — thank you. It was just a sudden idea I had—"

"Those ideas are going to get you into trouble one of these fine bright days. You mark my words!" she snorted. "Now, get your hats, please, all of you! We'll go for a walk to the Swings."

At the sight of that familiar glare their anxiety melted away. They flew to get ready, shouting and laughing, and knocking the Castle down as they ran.

The thin Spring sun shone over the Park as they hurried across the Lane. Green smoke hung around the Cherry-Trees where the small new leaves were sprouting. The scent of primroses was in the air and the birds were rehearsing their songs for summer.

"I'll race you to the Swings!" shouted Michael.

"We'll have them all to ourselves!" cried Jane. For nobody else was in the clearing where the five swings stood and waited.

In no time they had scrambled for places and Jane and Michael, John and Barbara were each on a swing of their own. Annabel, looking like a white woollen egg, shared hers with Mary Poppins.

"Now — one, two, THREE!" cried Michael loudly, and the swings swayed from the cross-beam. Higher and higher the children swung, swooping like birds through the delicate sunlight. Up they went with their heads to the sky and down they came with their feet to the earth. The trees seemed to spread their branches below them; the roofs of the houses nodded and bowed.

"It's like flying!" Jane cried happily, as the earth turned a somersault under her feet. She glanced across at Michael. His hair was tossing in all directions as he rode through the air. The Twins were squeaking like excited mice. And beyond them, with a dignified air, Mary Poppins swung backwards and forwards. One hand held Annabel on her knee and the other grasped her umbrella. Her eyes, as she rode her flying swing, shone with a strange, bright gleam. They were bluer than Jane had ever seen them, blue with the blueness of faraway. They seemed to look past the trees and houses, and out beyond all the seas and mountains, and over the rim of the world.

The afternoon faded and the Park grew grey as it tilted beneath their feet. But Jane and Michael took no notice. They were wrapped in a dream with Mary Poppins, a dream that swung them up and down between the earth and the sky, a rocking, riding, lulling dream that would never come to an end.

But come to an end it did, at last. The sun went over and the dream went with it. As the last rays spread across the Park, Mary Poppins put her foot to the ground and her swing stopped with a jerk.

"It is time to go," she said, quietly. And because her voice had, for once, no sternness, they stopped their swings immediately and obeyed without protesting. The perambulator gave its familiar groan as she dumped the Twins and Annabel into it. Jane and Michael walked quietly beside her. The earth was still swaying beneath their feet. They were happy and calm and silent.

Creak, creak! went the perambulator along the path.

Trip, trip, went Mary Poppins' shoes.

Michael glanced up as the last light fell on the faint green leaves of the Cherry-Trees.

"I believe," he said dreamily to Jane, "that Nellie Rubina's been here!"

"Here today and gone tomorrow — that's me!" cried a tinkling voice.

They turned to find Nellie Rubina herself rolling along on her wooden disc. And behind her came the wheeling shape of old Uncle Dodger.

"What a roll I've had!" cried Nellie Rubina. "I've looked for you everywhere!" she panted. "How are you all? Doing nicely, I hope! I wanted to see you, dear Miss Poppins, to give you a—"

"And also," said Uncle Dodger eagerly, "to wish you a very good—"

"Uncle Dodger!" said Nellie Rubina, with a warning glint in her eye.

"Oh, excuse me! Begging your pardon, my dear!" the old man answered quickly.

"Just a Little Something to remember us by," Nellie Rubina went on. Then, thrusting out her wooden arm, she popped a small white object into Mary Poppins' hand.

The children crowded to look at it.

"It's a Conversation!" Michael exclaimed.

Jane peered at the letters in the fading light. '"Fare Thee Well, my Fairy Fay!'" she read out. "Are you going away, then, Nellie Rubina?"

"Oh, dear me, yes! Tonight's the night!" Nellie Rubina gave a tinkling laugh as she glanced at Mary Poppins.

"You can keep it to eat on the way, Miss Poppins!" Uncle Dodger nodded at the Conversation.

"Uncle Dodger!" cried Nellie Rubina.

"Oh, my! Oh, my! Out of turn again! I'm too old, that's what it is, my dear. And begging your pardon, of course."

"Well, it's very kind of you both, I'm sure," said Mary Poppins politely. You could see she was pleased by the way she smiled. Then she tucked the Conversation into her pocket and gave the pram a push.

"Oh, do wait a minute, Mary Poppins!" cried a breathless voice behind them. A patter of steps came along the path and the children turned quickly.

"Why, it's Mr. and Mrs. Tbrvy!" cried Michael, as a tall, thin shape and a round, fat one came forward, hand in hand.

"We now call ourselves the Topsy-TUrvies. We think it sounds better." Mr. TUrvy looked down at them over his glasses as his wife shook hands all round.

"Well, Mary," he went on, in his gloomy voice, "we thought we'd drop in, just for a moment — to say So Long, you know."

"And not too long, we hope, dear Mary!" added Mrs. Turvy, smiling. Her round, fat face shook like a jelly and she looked extremely happy.

"Oh, thank you kindly, Cousin Arthur! And you, too, Topsy!" said Mary Poppins, as she shook them both by the hand.

"What does it mean — So Long?" asked Jane, as she leant against Mary Poppins. Something — perhaps it was the darkness — made her suddenly want to be very close to that warm and comforting figure.

"It means my daughters!" a small voice screeched, as a shape emerged from the shadows. "So long, so wide, so huge, so stupid — the great Gallumping Giraffes."

And there on the path stood Mrs. Corry with her coat all covered with threepenny-bits. And behind her, Fannie and Annie stalked, like a pair of mournful giants.

"Well, here we are again!" shrieked Mrs. Corry, as she grinned at the staring children. "H'm! Growing up fast, aren't they, Mary Poppins? I can see that they won't need you much longer!"

Mary Poppins gave a nod of agreement as Michael, with a cry of protest, rushed to her side.

"We'll always need her — always!" he cried, hugging Mary Poppins' waist so tightly that he felt her strong hard bones.

She glared at him like an angry panther.

"Kindly do not crush me, Michael! I am not a Sardine in a Tin!"

"Well, I just came to have a word with you," Mrs. Corry cackled on. "An old word, Mary, and one that is best said quickly. As I used to tell Solomon when he was making that fuss about the Queen of Sheba — if you've got to say it sometime, why not now?" Mrs. Corry looked searchingly at Mary Poppins. Then she added softly, "Good-bye, my dear!"

"Are you going away, too?" Michael demanded, as he stared at Mrs. Corry.

She gave a merry shriek of laughter. "Well — yes, I am, in a manner of speaking! Once one goes they all go — that's the way of it. Now, Fannie and Annie—" she glanced around, "what have you idiots done with those presents?"

"Here, Mother!" the sisters answered nervously. And the huge hands dropped into Mary Poppins' palm two tiny pieces of gingerbread. One was shaped like a heart and the other like a star.

Mary Poppins gave a cry of delight.

"Why, Mrs. Corry! What a surprise! This is a TVeat as well as a Pleasure!"

"Oh, it's nothing. Just a Souvenir." Mrs. Corry airily waved her hand, and her little elastic-sided boots danced along beside the perambulator.

"All your friends seem to be here tonight!" remarked Michael to Mary Poppins.

"Well, what do you think I am — a Hermit? I suppose I can see my friends when I like!"

"I was only remarking—" he began, when a glad shriek interrupted him.

"Why, Albert — if it isn't you!" cried Mrs. Corry gaily. And she ran to meet a roly-poly figure that was hurrying towards them. The children gave a shout of joy as they recognized Mr. Wigg.

"Well, Bless my Boots. It's Clara Corry!" cried Mr. Wigg, shaking her hand affectionately.

"I didn't know you knew each other!" exclaimed Jane, looking very surprised.

"What you don't know would fill a Dictionary," Mary Poppins broke in with a snort.

"Know each other? Why, we were children together — weren't we, Albert?" cried Mrs. Corry.

Mr. Wigg chuckled. "Ah, the good old days!" he answered cheerily. "Well, how are you, Mary, my girl?"

"Nicely, thank you, Uncle Albert. Mustn't complain," replied Mary Poppins.

"I thought I'd step up for One Last Word. Pleasant trip and all that. It's a nice night for it." Mr. Wigg glanced round at the clear blue dusk that was creeping through the Park.

"A nice night for what?" demanded Michael. He hoped Mary Poppins would not be lonely with her friends going off like this. But, after all, he thought to himself — she's still got me and what more could she want?

"A nice night to go sailing — that's what it's for!" roared Admiral Boom in his rollicking voice. He was striding through the trees towards them, singing as he came:

"Sailing, sailing, over the Bounding Main,

And many a stormy Wind shall blow

Till we come home again!

Sailing, sailing—"

"Ahoy there, lubbers! Hoist the mainsail! Up with the anchor and let her go. For away I'm bound to go — oho! — 'cross the wide Missouri!" He blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn and looked at Mary Poppins.

"All aboard?" he enquired gruffly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"All aboard, Sir," she answered primly, and she gave him a curious look.

"Hrrrrrrrrmph! Well—

"I'll be true to my love,

If my Love will be tru-ue to me!"

he sang, in a voice that was almost gentle. "Here—" he broke off. "Port and Starboard! Cockles and Whelks! You can't do that to a Sailor!"

"Balloons and Balloons!" cried a high-pitched voice as a little shape went whizzing past and knocked off the Admiral's hat.

It was the Balloon Woman. One small balloon flew from her hand. It bounced her upon the end of its string and swept her away through the shadows.

"Good-bye and Good-bye, my Dearie Duck!" she called as she disappeared.

"There she goes — off like a streak of lightning!" cried Jane, gazing after her.

"Well, she's certainly not a creeping Snail, like some people I could mention! Kindly walk up!" said Mary Poppins. "I haven't all night to waste!"

"I should think not!" Mrs. Corry said, grinning.

They walked up. For once they were eager to do anything she told them. They put their hands on the perambulator beside her black-gloved fingers. And the blue dusk lapped them round like a river as they hurried along with the chattering group.

They were nearly at the Park Gates now. The Lane stretched darkly in front of them and from it came a strain of music. Jane and Michael looked at each other. What could it be? said their upraised brows. Then their curiosity got the better of them. They wanted to stay with Mary Poppins but they also wanted to see what was happening. They gave one glance at her dark blue figure and then began to run.

"Oh, look!" cried Jane, as she reached the Gate. "It's Mr. Twigley with a Hurdy-gurdy!"

And Mr. Twigley it was indeed, drawing a sweet wild tune from the box as he busily turned the handle. Beside him stood a small bright figure that was vaguely familiar.

"And all of them made of the Finest Sugar," it was saying gaily to Mr. Twigley as the children crossed the road. Then, of course, they knew who it was.

"Stare, stare,

Like a Bear,

Then you'll know me

Everywhere!"

chanted Miss Calico cheerfully, as she waved her hand towards them.

"Could you move your feet a bit, please, kids! You're standing on one of my roses!"

Bert, the Matchman, crouched on the pavement, right at their own front gate. He was drawing a large bouquet of flowers in coloured chalks on the asphalt. Ellen and the Policeman were watching him. And Miss Lark and her dogs were listening to the music as they stood outside Next Door.

"Wait a minute," she cried to Mr. Twigley, "while I run in and get you a shilling!"

Mr. Twigley smiled his twinkly smile and shook his head gently.

"Don't bother, ma'am," he advised Miss Lark. "A shilling would be no use to me. I'm doing it All for Love." And the children saw him lift his eyes and exchange a look with Mary Poppins as she strode out of the Park. He wound the handle with all his might and the tune grew louder and quicker.

"One Forget-me-not — and then it's finished," the Matchman murmured to himself as he added a flower to the bunch.

"That's dainty, Bert!" said Mary Poppins admiringly. She had pushed the perambulator up behind him and was gazing at the picture. He sprang to his feet with a little cry and, plucking the bouquet from the pavement, he pressed it into her hand.

"They're yours, Mary," he told her shyly. "I drew them all for you!"

"Did you really, Bert?" she said with a smile. "Well, I just don't know how to thank you!" She hid her blushing face in the flowers and the children could smell the scent of roses.

The Matchman looked at her glowing eyes and smiled a loving smile.

"It's tonight — isn't it, Mary?" he said.

"Yes, Bert," she said, nodding, as she gave him her hand. The Matchman looked at it sadly for a moment. Then he bent his head and kissed it.

"Good-bye, then, Mary!" they heard him whisper.

And she answered softly, "Good-bye, Bert!"

"What is all this about tonight?" demanded Michael, inquisitively.

"Tonight is the happiest night of my life!" said Miss Lark as she listened to the Hurdy-gurdy. "I never heard such beautiful music. It makes my feet simply twinkle!"

"Well, let 'em twinkle with mine!" roared the Admiral. And he snatched Miss Lark away from her gate and polka-ed along the Lane.

"Oh, Admiral!" they heard her cry, as he swung her round and round.

"Lovey-dovey-cat's-eyes!" cooed Mrs. Turvy. And Mr. Turvy, looking very embarrassed, allowed her to dance him round.

"Wot about it — eh?" the Policeman smirked, and before Ellen had time to blow her nose, he had whirled her into the dance.

One, two, three! One, two, three! High and sweet, the music flowed from the Hurdy-gurdy. The street lamps blazed with sudden brightness and speckled the Lane with light and shadow. One, two, three, went Miss Calico's feet, as she danced alone beside Mr. Twigley. It was such a wild and merry tune that Jane and Michael could stand still no longer. Off they darted and one, two, three, their feet went tapping on the echoing road.

"'Ere! Wot's all this? Observe the Rules! We can't 'ave dancing in Public Places! Move on, now, don't obstruct the traffic!" The Park Keeper, goggling as usual, came threading his way through the Lane.

"Mercy me and a Jumping Bean! You're just the man I want!" shrieked Miss Calico. And before the Park Keeper knew where he was, she had swung him into the mazy dance where he gulped and gaped and twirled.

"Round we go, Clara!" cried Mr. Wigg, swinging past with Mrs. Corry.

"I used to do this with Henry the Eighth — and oh, what a time we had!" she shrieked. "Get along, clum-sies! Keep your feet to yourselves!" she added, in a different voice, to Fannie and Annie who were dancing together like a pair of gloomy elephants.

"I've never been so happy before!" came Miss Lark's excited cry.

"You should go to sea, my dear Lucinda! Everyone's happy at sea!" roared the Admiral, as he polka-ed madly along.

"I do believe I will," she replied.

And her two dogs looked at each other aghast and hoped she would change her mind.

Deeper and deeper grew the dusk as the dancers whirled in a ring. And there in the centre stood Mary Poppins with her flowers clasped in her hands. She rocked the perambulator gently and her foot beat time with the music. The Matchman watched her from the pavement.

Straight and stiff she stood there, smiling, and her eyes went roving from one to the other — Miss Lark and the Admiral, the Topsy-TUrvies; the two Noahs rolling around on their discs; Miss Calico clutching the Park Keeper; Mrs. Corry in the arms of Mr. Wigg; and Mrs. Corry's big daughters. Then her bright glance fell on the two young children who were dancing round in the ring. She looked at them for a long, long moment, watching their bright enchanted faces and their arms going out to each other.

And there in the centre stood Mary Poppins

And suddenly, as though they felt that look upon them, they stopped in the middle of their dance and ran to her, laughing and breathless.

"Mary Poppins!" they both cried, pressing against her. Then they found they had nothing else to say. Her name seemed to be enough.

She put her arms about their shoulders and looked into their eyes. It was a long, deep, searching look that plunged right down to their very hearts and saw what was there. Then she smiled to herself and turned away. She took her parrot-headed umbrella from the perambulator and gathered Annabel into her arms.

"I must go in now, Jane and Michael! You two can bring the Twins later."

They nodded, still panting from the dance.

"Now, be good children!" she said quietly. "And remember all I have told you."

They smiled at her reassuringly. What a funny thing to say, they thought. As if they would dare forget!

She gave the Twins' curls a gentle rumple; she buttoned up Michael's coat at the neck and straightened Jane's collar.

"Now, spit-spot and away we go!" she cried gaily to Annabel.

Then off she tripped through the garden-gate, with the baby, the flowers and the parrot umbrella held lightly in her arms. Up the steps went the prim, trim figure, walking with a jaunty air as though she was thoroughly pleased with herself.

"Farewell, Mary Poppins!" the dancers cried, as she paused at the Front Door.

She glanced back over her shoulder and nodded. Then the Hurdy-gurdy gave a loud sweet peal and the Front Door closed behind her.

Jane shivered as the music ceased. Perhaps it was the frost in the air that made her feel so lonely.

"We'll wait till all the people leave and then we'll go in," she said.

She glanced around at the group of dancers. They were standing still upon the pavement and seemed to be waiting for something. For every face was gazing upwards at Number Seventeen.

"What can they be looking at?" said Michael, as he craned his own head backwards.

Then a glow appeared at the Nursery windows and a dark shape moved across it. The children knew it was Mary Poppins, lighting the evening fire. And presently the flames sprang up. They sparkled on the window-panes and shone through the darkening garden. Higher and higher leapt the blaze, brighter and brighter the windows gleamed. Then suddenly they saw the Nursery reflected upon Miss Lark's side wall. There it gleamed, high above the garden, with its sparkling fire and the mantelpiece and the old armchair and—

"The Door! The Door!" A breathless cry went up from the crowd in the Lane.

What door? Jane and Michael stared at each other. And suddenly — they knew!

"Oh, Michael! It isn't her friends who are going away!" cried Jane in an anguished voice. "It's — oh, hurry, hurry! We must go and find her!"

With trembling hands they hauled out the Twins and dragged them through the gate. They tore at the Front Door, rushed upstairs and burst into the Nursery.

Their faces fell as they stared at the room, for everything in it was as quiet and peaceful as it had always been. The fire was crackling behind its bars and, cosily tucked inside her cot, Annabel was softly cooing. The bricks they had used for the morning's Castle were neatly piled in a corner. And beside them lay the precious box of Mary Poppins' dominoes.

"Oh!" they panted, surprised and puzzled to find everything just the same.

Everything? No! There was one thing missing.

"The camp bed!" Michael cried. "It's gone! Then — where is Mary Poppins?"

He ran to the bathroom and out on the landing and back to the Nursery again.

"Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins! Mary Poppins!"

Then Jane glanced up from the fire to the window and gave a little cry.

"Oh, Michael, Michael! There she is! And there is the Other Door!"

He followed the line of her pointing finger and his mouth opened wide.

For there, on the outer side of the window, another Nursery glimmered. It stretched from Number Seventeen to the wall of Miss Lark's house; and everything in the real Nursery was reflected in that shining room. There was Annabel's gleaming cot and the table made of light. There was the fire, leaping up in mid-air; and there, at last, was the Other Door, exactly the same as the one behind them. It shimmered like a panel of light at the other side of the garden. Beside it stood their own reflections and towards it, along the airy floor, tripped the figure of Mary Poppins. She carried the carpet bag in her hand; and the Matchman's flowers and the parrot umbrella were tucked beneath her arm. Away she stalked through the Nursery's reflection, away through the shimmering likenesses of the old familiar things. And as she went, the daisies nodded on the crown of her black straw hat.

A loud cry burst from Michael's mouth as he rushed towards the window.

Away she stalked through the Nursery's reflection

"Mary Poppins!" he cried. "Come back! Come back!"

Behind him the Twins began to grizzle.

"Oh, please, Mary Poppins, come back to us!" called Jane, from the window-seat.

But Mary Poppins took no notice. She strode on swiftly towards the Door that shimmered in the air.

"She won't get anywhere that way!" said Michael. "It will only lead to Miss Lark's wall."

But even as he spoke, Mary Poppins reached the Other Door and pulled it wide open. A gasp of surprise went up from the children. For the wall they had expected to see had entirely disappeared. Beyond Mary Poppins' straight blue figure there was nothing but field on field of sky, and the dark spreading night.

"Come back, Mary Poppins!" they cried together, in a last despairing wail.

And as though she had heard them, she paused for a minute, with one foot on the threshold. The starfish sparkled on her collar as she glanced back swiftly towards the Nursery. She smiled at the four sad watching faces and waved her bouquet of flowers. Then she snapped the parrot umbrella open and stepped out into the night.

The umbrella wobbled for a moment and the light from the fire shone full upon it as it swayed in the air. Then, with a bound, as though glad to be free, it soared away through the sky. Up, up went Mary Poppins with it, tightly holding the parrot handle as she cleared the tops of the trees. And as she went, the Hurdy-gurdy broke out with a peal of music, as loud and proud and triumphant as any wedding march.

Back in the Nursery the great blaze faded and sank into crimson coals. The flames went down and with them went the shining other room. Soon there was nothing to be seen but the Cherry-Trees waving through the air and the blank brick wall of Miss Lark's house.

But above the roof a bright form rose, flying higher every minute. It seemed to have gathered into itself the sparkle and flame of the fire. For it glowed like a little core of light in the black frosty sky.

Leaning upon the window-seat, the four children watched it. Their cheeks lay heavily in their hands and their hearts were heavy within their breasts. They did not try to explain it to themselves, for they knew there were things about Mary Poppins that could never be explained. Where she had come from nobody knew, and where she was going they could not guess. They were certain only of one thing — that she had kept her promise. She had stayed with them till the Door opened and then she had left them. And they could not tell if they would ever see that trim shape again.

Michael reached out for the box of dominoes. He put it on the sill beside Jane. And together they held it as they watched the umbrella go sailing through the sky.

Presently Mrs. Banks came in.

"What — sitting all alone, my darlings?" she cried as she snapped on the light. "Where's Mary Poppins?" she enquired, with a glance round the room.

"Gone, ma'am," said a resentful voice, as Mrs. Brill appeared on the landing.

Mrs. Banks' face had a startled look.

"What do you mean?" she demanded anxiously.

"Well, it's this way," Mrs. Brill replied. "I was lis-tenin' to a Nurdy-gurdy that's down in the Lane, when I sees the empty perambulator and the Matchman wheelin' it up to the door.' 'Ullo!' I says, 'where's that Mary Poppins?' And 'e tells me she's gone again. Lock, stock and barrer gone. Not even a note on 'er pincushion!"

"Oh, what shall I do?" wailed Mrs. Banks, sitting down on the old armchair.

"Do? You can come and dance with me!" cried Mr. Banks' voice, as he raced upstairs.

"Oh, don't be so silly, George! Something's happened. Mary Poppins has gone again!" Mrs. Banks' face was a tragedy. "George! George! Please listen to me!" she begged.

For Mr. Banks had taken no notice. He was waltzing round and round the room, holding out his coat-tails.

"I can't! There's a Hurdy-gurdy down in the Lane and it's playing the Blue Danube. Ta-rum pom-pom-pom — de-di, de-dum!"

And, pulling Mrs. Banks from the chair, he waltzed her round, singing lustily. Then they both collapsed on the window-seat among the watching children.

"But, George — this is serious!" Mrs. Banks protested, half-laughing, half-crying, as she pinned up her hair.

"I see something much more serious!" he exclaimed, as he glanced through the Nursery window. "A shooting star! Look at it! Wish on it, children!"

Away through the sky streaked the shining spark, cleaving a path through the darkness. And as they watched it, every heart was filled with sudden sweetness. Down in the Lane the music ceased and the dancers stood gazing, hand in hand.

"My dear Love!" Mr. Banks said tenderly, as he touched Mrs. Banks' cheek. And they put their arms around each other and wished on the star.

Jane and Michael held their breath as the sweetness brimmed up within them. And the thing they wished was that all their lives they might remember Mary Poppins. Where and How and When and Why — had nothing to do with them. They knew that as far as she was concerned those questions had no answers. The bright shape speeding through the air above them would forever keep its secret. But in the summer days to come and the long nights of winter, they would remember Mary Poppins and think of all she had told them. The rain and the sun would remind them of her, and the birds and the beasts and the changing seasons. Mary Poppins herself had flown away, but the gifts she had brought would remain for always.

"We'll never forget you, Mary Poppins!" they breathed, looking up at the sky.

Her bright shape paused in its flight for a moment and gave an answering wave. Then darkness folded its wing about her and hid her from their eyes.

"It's gone!" said Mr. Banks, with a sigh, looking out at the starless night.

Then he pulled the curtains across the window and drew them all to the fire….

Sussex, England,

New York, U.S.A.