"But — where did you spring from?" Mrs. Banks cried.
"She sprang right out of a—" Michael was just about to explain when he felt Mary Poppins' eyes upon him. He knew very well what that look meant. He stammered and was silent.
"I came from the Park, ma'am," said Mary Poppins, with the patient air of a martyr.
"Thank goodness!" breathed Mrs. Banks from her heart. Then she remembered all that had happened since Mary Poppins had left them. I mustn't seem too pleased, she thought. Or she'll be more uppish than ever!
"You left me Without a Word, Mary Poppins," she said with an air of dignity. "I think you might tell me when you're coming and going. I never know where I am."
"Nobody does, ma'am," said Mary Poppins, as she calmly unbuttoned her gloves.
"Don't you, Mary Poppins?" asked Mrs. Banks, in a very wistful voice.
"Oh, she knows," Michael answered daringly. Mary Poppins gave him an angry glare.
"Well, you're here now, anyway!" Mrs. Banks cried. She felt extremely relieved. For now she need neither advertise nor send for Miss Andrew.
"Yes, ma'am. Excuse me," said Mary Poppins.
And she neatly stepped past Mrs. Banks and put her carpet bag on the bannisters. It slid up swiftly with a whistling sound and bounced into the Nursery. Then she gave the umbrella a little toss. It spread its black silk wings like a bird and flew up after the carpet bag with a parrot-like squawk.
The children gave an astonished gasp and turned to see if their Mother had noticed.
But Mrs. Banks had no thought for anything but to get to the telephone.
"The Drawing-room chimney has been cleaned. We are having Lamb Chops and peas for dinner. And Mary Poppins is back!" she cried, breathlessly.
"I don't believe it!" crackled Mr. Banks' voice. "I shall come and see for myself!"
Mrs. Banks smiled happily as she hung up the receiver….
Mary Poppins went primly up the stairs and the children tore past her into the Nursery. There on the hearth lay the carpet bag. And standing in its usual corner was the parrot-headed umbrella. They had a settled, satisfied air as though they had been there for years. In the cradle, Annabel, blue in the face, was tying herself into knots. She stared in surprise at Mary Poppins, and smiled a toothless smile. Then she put on her Innocent Angel look and began to play tunes on her toes.
"Humph!" said Mary Poppins grimly, as she put her straw hat in its paper bag. She took off her coat and hung it up on the hook behind the door. Then she glanced at herself in the Nursery mirror and stooped to unlock the carpet bag.
It was quite empty except for a curled-up Tape Measure.
"What's that for, Mary Poppins?" asked Jane.
"To measure you," she replied quickly. "To see how you've grown."
"You needn't bother," Michael informed her. "We've all grown two inches. Daddy measured us."
"Stand straight, please!" Mary Poppins said calmly, ignoring the remark. She measured him from his head to his feet and gave a loud sniff.
"I might have known it!" she said, snorting. "You've grown Worse and Worse."
Michael stared. "Tape Measures don't tell words, they tell inches," he said, protestingly.
"Since when?" she demanded haughtily, as she thrust it under his nose. There on the Tape were the tell-tale words in big blue letters:
W-O-R-S-E A-N-D W-O-R-S-E
"Oh!" he said, in a horrified whisper.
"Head up, please!" said Mary Poppins, stretching the Tape against Jane.
"Jane has grown into a Wilful, Lazy, Selfish child," she read out in triumph.
The tears came pricking into Jane's eyes. "Oh, I haven't, Mary Poppins!" she cried. For, funnily enough, she only remembered the times when she had been good.
Mary Poppins slipped the Tape round the Twins. "Quarrelsome" was their measurement. "Fretful and Spoilt," was Annabel's.
"I thought so!" Mary Poppins said, sniffing. "I've only got to turn my back for you to become a Menagerie!"
She drew the Tape round her own waist; and a satisfied smile spread over her face.
"Better Than Ever. Practically Perfect," her own measurement read.
"No more than I expected," she preened. And added, with a furious glare, "Now, spit-spot into the Bathroom!"
They hurried eagerly to obey her. For now that Mary Poppins was back, everything went with a swing. They undressed and bathed in the wink of an eye. Nobody dawdled over Supper, nobody left a crumb or a drop. They pushed in their chairs, folded their napkins and scrambled into bed.
Up and down the Nursery went Mary Poppins, tucking them all in. They could smell her old familiar smell, a mixture of toast and starchy aprons. They could feel her old familiar shape, solid and real beneath her clothes. They watched her in adoring silence, drinking her in.
Michael, as she passed his bed, peered over the edge and under it. There was nothing there except dust and slippers. Then he peeped under Jane's bed. Nothing there, either.
"But where are you going to sleep, Mary Poppins?" he enquired curiously.
As he spoke, she touched the door of the clothes cupboard. It burst open noisily and out of it, with a graceful sweep, came the old camp bed. It was made up, ready to be slept in. And upon it, in a neat pile, were Mary Poppins' possessions. There were the Sun-light Soap and the hairpins, the bottle of scent, the folding armchair, the toothbrush and the lozenges. The nightgowns, cotton, and flannel as well, were tidily laid on the pillow. And beside them were the boots and the dominoes, and the bathing-caps and the postcard album.
The children sat up in a gaping row.
"But how did it get in there?" demanded Michael. "There wasn't a sign of it today. I know, 'cos I hid there from Ellen!"
He dared not go on with his questions, however, for Mary Poppins looked so haughty that the words froze on his lips. With a sniff, she turned away from him and unfolded a flannel nightgown.
Jane and Michael looked at each other. And their eyes said all that their tongues could not: It's no good expecting her to explain, they told each other silently.
They watched her comical scarecrow movements as she undressed beneath the nightgown. Clip, clip — the buttons flew apart. Off went her petticoat — swish, swish, swish! A peaceful feeling stole into the children. And they knew that it came from Mary Poppins. Dreamily watching the wriggling nightgown, they thought of all that had happened. How she had first arrived at the house, blown by the West Wind. How her umbrella had carried her off when the wind went round to the East. They thought how she had come back to them on the day when they flew the Kite; and how she had ridden away once more and left them lonely for her comforting presence.
Well, now — they sighed happily — she was back again, and just the same as ever. Here she was, settling down in the Nursery, as calmly as though she had never left it. The thoughts he was thinking rose up in Michael like bubbles in soda water. And before he could stop them, they burst right out.
"Oh, Mary Poppins," he cried, eagerly, "it's been just awful without you!"
Her lip quivered. It seemed as though a smile might break out. But it changed its mind and didn't.
"You've been awful — that's more like it! This house is nothing but a Bear Garden. I wonder anyone stays in it!"
"But you will, won't you?" he said wheedlingly.
"We'll be good as gold, if only you'll stay!" Jane promised solemnly.
She looked from one to the other calmly, seeing right down inside their hearts and understanding everything.
"I'll stay—" she said, after a little pause. "I'll stay till the door opens." And as she spoke she gazed thoughtfully at the door of the Nursery.
Jane gave a little anxious cry. "Oh, don't say that, Mary Poppins!" she wailed. "That door is always opening!"