He turned his head enquiringly and his cheek encountered a bone button that was nestling in the fur. Surely he knew that piece of bone! Oh, was it possible—? Could it be—?
His glance slid upwards past the button till it came to a neat fur collar. And above the collar was a circle of straw topped with a crimson flower.
He gave a long-drawn sigh of relief. Cats, he was glad to realise, do not wear tulip hats on their heads, nor kid gloves over their claws.
"It's you!" he cried exultantly, pressing his face to her rabbit-skin jacket. "Oh, Mary Poppins — I was up in the star — and all the cats came snarling at me — and I thought I'd never find the way home — and I blew the whistle and—"
Suddenly he began to stammer, for her face, beneath the brim of her hat, was cold and very haughty.
"And here I am—" he concluded lamely.
Mary Poppins said never a word. She bowed to him in a distant manner as though she had never met him before. Then in silence she held out her hand.
He hung his head guiltily and put the whistle into it.
"So that's the reason for the hullabaloo!" The Park Keeper spluttered with disapproval. "I warn you, this is your last chance. Blow that whistle once again and I'll resign — I promise!"
"A pie-crust promise!" scoffed Mary Poppins, as she pocketed the whistle.
The Park Keeper shook his head in despair.
"You ought to know the rules by now. All litter to be placed in the baskets. No climbin' of trees in the Park!"
"Litter yourself!" said Mary Poppins. "And I never climbed a tree in my life!"
"Well, might I enquire where you came from, then? Droppin' down from the sky like that and knockin' off me cap?"
"There's not a law against enquiring, so far as I am aware!"
"Been up in the Milky Way, I suppose!" The Park Keeper snorted sarcastically.
"Exactly," she said, with a smile of triumph.
"Huh! You can't expect me — a respectable man — to believe that tarradiddle!" And yet, he thought uneasily, she had certainly come from somewhere.
"I don't expect anything," she retorted. "And I'll thank you to let me pass!"
Still holding Michael close to her side, she gave her head a disdainful toss, pushed the Park Keeper out of the way and tripped towards the Gate.
An outraged cry sounded behind them as the Park Keeper wildly waved his stick.
"You've broken the rules! You've disturbed the peace! And you don't even say you're sorry!"
"I'm not!" she called back airily, as she whisked across the Lane.
Speechless at so many broken bye-laws, the Park Keeper bent to pick up his cap. There it lay on the rainy grass. And beside it sprawled a strange dark object on which was painted, in gleaming white, a design of skull-and-crossbones.
"When will they learn," he sighed to himself, "what to do with their litter?"
And because he was so upset and flustered, he mistakenly put his cap in the basket and walked home wearing the pirate's hat….
Michael glanced eagerly at Number Seventeen as they hurried across the Lane. It was easy to see — for the mist had cleared — that there wasn't a bramble near it. The cats had not been right, after all.
The hall light flooded him with welcome and the stairs seemed to run away beneath him as he bounded up to the nursery.
"Oh, there you are," cried Jane gaily. "Wherever have you been?"
He had not the words to answer her. He could only gaze at the well-known room, as though he had been away for years. How could he explain, even to Jane, how precious it seemed to him?
The Twins ran in with open arms. He bent and hugged them lovingly and, putting out his hand to Jane, he drew her into the hug.
A light footstep made him glance up. Mary Poppins came tripping in, buttoning on her apron. Everything about her tonight — the darting movements, the stern glance, even the way her nose turned up — was deliciously familiar.
"What would you like me to do, Mary Poppins?" He hoped she would ask for something tremendous.
"Whatever you like," she answered calmly, with the same extravagant courtesy she had shown him all day long.
"Don't, Mary Poppins! Don't!" he pleaded.
"Don't what?" she enquired, with annoying calm.
"Don't speak to me in that elegant way. I can't bear any more luck!"
"But luck," she said brightly, "was what you wanted!"
"It was. But it isn't. I've had enough. Oh, don't be polite and kind."
The cool smile faded from her face.
"And am I not usually polite? Have you ever known me to be unkind? What do you take me for — a hyena?"
"No, not a hyena, Mary Poppins. And you are polite and you are kind! But today I like you best when you're angry. It makes me feel much safer."
"Indeed? And when am I angry, I'd like to know?"
She looked, as she spoke, very angry indeed. Her eyes flashed, her cheeks were scarlet. And for once, the sight delighted him. Now that her chilly smile was gone, he didn't mind what happened. She was her own familiar self and he no longer a stranger.
"And when you sniff — that's when I like you!" he added with stupendous daring.
"Sniff?" she said, sniffing. "What an idea!"
"And when you say 'Humph'—like a camel!"
"Like a what?" She looked quite petrified. Then she bristled wrathfully. She reminded him of the wave of cats as she crossed the nursery like an oncoming storm.
"You dare to stand there," she accused him sternly, taking a step with every word, just as the King had done, "and tell me I'm a dromedary? Four legs and a tail and a hump or two?"
"But, Mary Poppins, I only meant—"
"That is enough from you, Michael, One more piece of impertinence and you'll go to bed, spit-spot."
"I'm in it already, Mary Poppins," he said in a quavering voice. For by now she had backed him through the nursery and into his room.
"First a hyena and then a camel. I suppose I'll be a gorilla next!"
"But—"
"Not another word!" she spluttered, giving her head a proud toss as she stalked out of the room.
He knew he had insulted her, but he couldn't really be sorry. She was so exactly like herself that all he could feel was gladness.
Off went his clothes and in he dived, hugging his pillow to him. Its cheek was warm and friendly now as it pressed against his own.
The shadows crept slowly across his bed as he listened to the familiar sounds — bath-water running, the Twins' chatter and the rattle and clink of nursery supper.
The sounds grew fainter… the pillow grew softer…
But, suddenly, a delicious something — a scent or a flavour — filled the room, and made him sit up with a start.
A cup of chocolate hovered above him. Its fragrance came sweetly to his nose and mingled with the fresh-toast scent of Mary Poppins' apron. There she stood, like a starched statue, gazing calmly down.
He met her glance contentedly, feeling it plunging into him and seeing what was there. He knew that she knew that he knew she was not a camel. The day was over, his adventure behind him. The Cat Star was far away in the sky. And it seemed to him, as he stirred his chocolate, he had everything he wanted.
"I do believe, Mary Poppins," he said, "that I've nothing left to wish for,"
She smiled a superior, sceptical smile.
"Humph!" she remarked. "That's lucky!"
CHAPTER FOUR
The Children in the Story
Rattle! Rattle! Rattle!
Clank! Clank! Clank!
Up and down went the lawn-mower, leaving stripes of newly-cut grass in its wake.
Behind it panted the Park Keeper, pushing with all his might. At the end of each stripe he paused for a moment to glance round the Park and make sure that everybody was observing the rules.