"Overlook them, Mr. Turvy? Why, they will be my Greatest Treats," said Miss Tartlet. "I have seen the world upside down to-day and I have got a New Point of View. I assure you I shall look forward to the Second Mondays all the month!"
She laughed shyly and gave Mr. Turvy her other hand. And Mr. Turvy, Jane and Michael were glad to see, laughed too.
"It's after six o'clock, so I suppose he can be himself again!" whispered Michael to Jane.
Jane did not answer. She was watching the Mouse. It was no longer standing on its nose but hurrying away to its hole with a large crumb of cake in its mouth.
Mary Poppins picked up the Royal Doulton Bowl and proceeded to wrap it up.
"Pick up your handkerchiefs, please — and straighten your hats," she snapped.
"And now—" she took her umbrella and tucked her new bag under her arm.
"Oh, we're not going yet, are we, Mary Poppins?" said Michael.
"If you are in the habit of staying out all night, I am not," she remarked, pushing him towards the door.
"Must you go, really?" said Mr. Turvy. But he seemed to be saying it out of mere politeness. He had eyes only for Miss Tartlet.
But Miss Tartlet herself came up to them, smiling radiantly and tossing her curls.
"Come again," she said, giving a hand to each of them. "Now, do. Mr. Turvy and I—" she looked down shyly and blushed—"will be in to tea every Second Monday — won't we, Arthur?"
"Well," said Mr. Turvy, "we'll be in if we're not out — I'm sure of that!" And he laughed and Jane and Michael laughed.
And he and Miss Tartlet stood at the top of the stairs waving good-bye to Mary Poppins and the children, Miss Tartlet blushing happily and Mr. Turvy holding Miss Tartlet's hand and looking very proud and pompous….
"I didn't know it was as easy as that," said Michael to Jane as they splashed through the rain, under Mary Poppins' umbrella.
"What was?" said Jane.
"Standing on my head. I shall practise it when I get home."
"I wish we could have Second Mondays," said Jane dreamily.
"Get in, please!" said Mary Poppins, shutting her umbrella and pushing the children up the winding stairs of the bus.
They sat together in the seat behind her, talking quietly about all that had happened that afternoon.
Mary Poppins turned and glared at them.
"It is rude to whisper," she said fiercely. "And sit up straight. You're not flour-bags!"
They were quiet for a few minutes. Mary Poppins, half-turning in her seat, watched them with angry eyes.
"What a funny family you've got," Michael remarked to her, trying to make conversation.
Her head went up with a jerk.
"Funny? What do you mean, pray — funny?"
"Well — odd. Mr. Turvy turning Catherine wheels and standing on his head—"
Mary Poppins stared at him as though she could not believe her ears.
"Did I understand you to say," she began, speaking her words as though she were biting them, "that my cousin turned a Catherine wheel? And stood >> on—"
"But he did," protested Michael nervously. "We saw him."
"On his head? A relation of mine on his head? And turning about like a firework display?" Mary Poppins seemed hardly able to repeat the dreadful statement. She glared at Michael.
"Now this—" she began, and he shrank back in terror from her wild darting eyes. "This is the Last Straw. First you are impudent to me and then you insult my relations. It would take very little more — Very Little More — to make me give notice. So — I warn you!"
And with that she bounced round on her seat and sat with her back to them. And even from the back she looked angrier than they had ever seen her.
Michael leaned forward.
"I–I apologise," he said.
There was no answer from the seat in front.
"I'm sorry, Mary Poppins!"
"Humph!"
"Very sorry!"
"And well you might be!" she retorted, staring straight ahead of her.
Michael leant towards Jane.
"But it was true — what I said. Wasn't it?" he whispered.
Jane shook her head and put her finger to her lip. She was staring at Mary Poppins' hat. And presently, when she was sure that Mary Poppins was not looking, she pointed to the brim.
There, gleaming on the black shiny straw, was a scattering of crumbs, yellow crumbs from a sponge cake, the kind of thing you would expect to find on the hat of a person who had stood on their head to have tea.
Michael gazed at the crumbs for a moment. Then he turned and nodded understandingly to Jane.
They sat there, jogging up and down as the bus rumbled homewards. Mary Poppins' back, erect and angry, was like a silent warning. They dared not speak to her. But every time the bus turned a corner they saw the crumbs turning Catherine wheels on the shining brim of her hat….
CHAPTER FIVE
The New One
But why must we go for a walk with Ellen?" grumbled Michael, slamming the gate. "I don't like her. Her nose is too red."
"Sh!" said Jane. "She'll hear you."
Ellen, who was wheeling the perambulator, turned round.
"You're a cruel, unkind boy, Master Michael. I'm only doing my duty, I'm sure! It's no pleasure to me to be going for a walk in this heat — so there!"
She blew her red nose on a green handkerchief.
"Then why do you go?" Michael demanded.
"Because Mary Poppins is busy. So come along, there's a good boy, and I'll buy you a pennorth of peppermints."
"I don't want peppermints," muttered Michael. "I want Mary Poppins."
Plop-plop. Plop-plop. Ellen's feet marched slowly and heavily along the Lane.
"I can see a rainbow through every chink of my hat," said Jane.
"I can't," said Michael crossly. "I can only see my silk lining."
Ellen stopped at the corner, looking anxiously for traffic.
"Want any help?" enquired the Policeman, sauntering up to her.
"Well," said Ellen, blushing, "if you could take us across the road, I'd be much obliged. What with a bad cold, and four children to look after, I don't know if I'm on my head or my feet." She blew her nose again.
"But you must know! You've only got to look!" said Michael thinking how Perfectly Awful Ellen was.
But the Policeman apparently thought differently for he took Ellen's arm with one hand, and the handle of the perambulator with the other, and led her across the street as tenderly as though she were a bride.
"Ever get a day off?" he enquired, looking interestedly into Ellen's red face.
"Well," said Ellen. "Half-days, so to speak. Every second Saturday." She blew her nose nervously.
"Funny," said the Policeman. "Those are my days, too. And I'm usually just around here at two o'clock in the afternoon."
"Oh!" said Ellen, opening her mouth very wide.
"So!" said the Policeman, nodding at her politely.
"Well, I'll see," said Ellen. "Good-bye."
And she went trudging on, looking back occasionally to see if the Policeman was still looking.
And he always was.
"Mary Poppins never needs a policeman," complained Michael. "What can she be busy about?"
"Something important is happening at home," said Jane. "I'm sure of it."
"How do you know?"
"I've got an empty, waiting sort of feeling inside."
"Pooh!" said Michael. "I expect you're hungry! Can't we go faster, Ellen, and get it over?"
"That boy," said Ellen to the Park railing, "has a heart of stone. No, we can't, Master Michael, because of my feet."
"What's the matter with them?"