The dreamy voice was hushed and silent. The sunlight crept away from the window and dusk came slowly in. Not a sound could be heard in the Nursery but the ticking of the clock.
Then, with a start, as though she were coming back from a great distance, Mary Poppins turned to the children. Her eyes snapped angrily.
"May I ask what you're doing out of bed? I thought you were dying of toothache, Michael! What are you gaping at me for, Jane? I am not a Performing Bear!"
And, snatching up her wool, she became her usual whirlwind self.
With a squeak, Michael hurled himself into bed. But Jane did not move.
"I wonder who I am!" she said softly, half to herself and half to Michael.
"I know who I am," said Michael stoutly. "I'm Michael George Banks, of Cherry-Tree Lane. And I don't need a Cat to tell me."
"He doesn't need anyone to tell him anything. Clever Mr. Smarty!" Mary Poppins tossed him a scornful smile.
"When he comes back," Jane murmured slowly, "I shall look right into his deep green eyes!"
"You and your deep green eyes, indeed! Better look into your own black face and see that it's clean for Supper!" Mary Poppins sniffed her usual sniff.
"Perhaps he won't come back!" said Michael. A Cat that could look at a King, he thought, would hardly want to spend its days on the top of a mantelpiece.
"Oh, yes, he will — won't he, Mary Poppins?" Jane's voice was full of anxiety.
"How should I know?" snapped Mary Poppins. "I'm not a Public Library!"
"But it's Michael's cat—" Jane began to argue, when Mrs. Banks' voice interrupted her.
"Mary Poppins!" it called from the foot of the stairs. "Could you possibly spare me a moment?"
The children looked at each other questioningly. Their Mother's voice was shrill with alarm. Mary Poppins hurried out of the room. Michael pushed the blankets away once more and crept with Jane to the top of the stairs.
Down in the front hall Mr. Banks sat huddled upon a chair. Mrs. Banks was anxiously stroking his head and giving him sips of water.
"He seems to have had some kind of shock," she explained to Mary Poppins. "Can't you tell us, George, exactly what happened? Whatever can be the matter?"
Mr. Banks raised a ghostly face. "A Nervous Breakdown — that's what's the matter. I'm overworking. I'm seeing things."
"What things?" demanded Mrs. Banks.
Mr. Banks took a sip of water.
"I was turning in at the end of the Lane when—" he gave a shudder and closed his eyes. "I saw it standing right by our gate."
"You saw what standing?" cried Mrs. Banks frantically.
"A white thing. Sort of leopard it was. And forget-me-nots growing all over its fur. When I got to the gate it — looked at me. A wild green look — right into my eyes. Then it nodded and said 'Good-evening, Banks!' and hurried up the path."
"But—" Mrs. Banks began to argue.
Mr. Banks raised a protesting hand.
"I know what you're going to say. Well, don't. The leopards are all locked up in the Zoo. And they don't have forget-me-nots on them, anyway. I'm perfectly well aware of that. But it just goes to show that I'm very ill. You'd better send for Dr. Simpson."
Mrs. Banks ran to the telephone. And a stifled hiccup came from the landing.
"What's the matter with you up there?" asked Mr. Banks faintly.
But Jane and Michael could not answer. They were overcome by a storm of giggles. They writhed and rolled and rocked on the floor and gulped and gurgled with laughter.
For while Mr. Banks was describing his shock, a white shape had appeared at the Nursery window. Lightly it leapt from the sill to the floor and up to its place on the mantelpiece. It sat there now with its tail curled round it and its whiskers folded against its cheeks. Dappled with small, blue, shining flowers, its green eyes gazing across the room, silent and still on the mantelpiece, sat Michael's China Cat.
"Well, of all the hard-hearted, unfeeling children!" Mr. Banks stared up at them, shocked and hurt.
But that only made them laugh more loudly. They giggled and coughed and choked and exploded till Mary Poppins bent back her head and fixed them with one of her fiercest glares.
Then there was silence. Not even a hiccup. For that look, as Jane and Michael knew, was enough to stop anyone laughing….
CHAPTER 4
THE MARBLE BOY
AND DON'T forget to buy me an evening paper!" said Mrs. Banks, as she handed Jane two pennies and kissed her good-bye.
Michael looked at his Mother reproachfully.
"Is that all you're going to give us?" he asked. "What'll happen if we meet the Ice Cream Man?"
"Well," said Mrs. Banks reluctantly. "Here's another sixpence. But I do think you children get too many treats. I didn't have Ices every day when I was a little girl."
Michael looked at her curiously. He could not believe she had ever been a little girl. Mrs. George Banks in short skirts and her hair tied up with ribbons? Impossible!
"I suppose," he said smugly, "you didn't deserve them!"
And he tucked the sixpence carefully into the pocket of his sailor suit.
"That's Fourpence for the Ice Creams," said Jane. "And we'll buy a Lot-o'-Fun with the rest."
"Out of my way, Miss, if you please!" said a haughty voice behind her.
As neat and trim as a fashion-plate, Mary Poppins came down the steps with Annabel. She dumped her into the perambulator and pushed it past the children.
"Now, Quick March into the Park!" she snapped. "And no meandering!"
Down the path straggled Jane and Michael, with John and Barbara at their heels. The sun spread over Cherry-Tree Lane like a bright enormous umbrella. Thrushes and blackbirds sang in the trees. Down at the corner Admiral Boom was busily mowing his lawn.
From the distance came sounds of martial music. The Band was playing at the end of the Park. Along the walks went the flowery sunshades and beneath them sauntered gossiping ladies, exchanging the latest news.
The. Park Keeper, in his summer suit — blue with a red stripe on the sleeve — was keeping an eye on everyone as he tramped across the lawns.
"Observe the Rules! Keep Off the Grass! All Litter to be Placed in the Baskets!" he shouted.
Jane gazed at the sunny, dreamy scene. "It's just like Mr. Twigley's box," she said with a happy sigh.
Michael put his ear to the trunk of an oak.
"I believe I can hear it growing!" he cried. "It makes a small, soft, creeping sound—"
"You'll be creeping in a minute! Right back home, unless you hurry!" Mary Poppins warned him.
"No Rubbish Allowed in the Park!" shouted the Keeper, as she swept along the Lime Walk.
"Rubbish yourself!" she retorted briskly, with a haughty toss of her head.
He took off his hat and fanned his face as he stared at her retreating back. And you knew from the way Mary Poppins smiled that she knew quite well he was staring. How could he help it, she thought to herself. Wasn't she wearing her new white jacket, with the pink collar and the pink belt and the four pink buttons down the front?
"Which way are we going today?" asked Michael.
"That remains to be seen!" she answered him priggishly.
"I was only enquiring—" Michael argued.
"Don't, then!" she advised, with a warning sniff.
"She never lets me say anything!" he grumbled under his hat to Jane. "I'll go dumb some day and then she'll be sorry!"