Mary Poppins Opens the Door Read Free Page B

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!"
    Mary Poppins glared.
    "I meant the Other Door," she said, as she buttoned up her nightgown.
    "What can she mean?" Jane whispered to Michael.
    "I know what she means," he answered cleverly. "There isn't any other door. And a door that isn't there,
can't
open. So she's going to stay forever." He hugged himself happily at the thought.
    Jane, however, was not so sure. I wonder, she thought to herself.
    But Michael went on cheerfully babbling.
    "I'm glad I shook hands with the Sweep," he said. "It brought us wonderful luck. Perhaps he'll do the Nursery next and shake hands with
you,
Mary Poppins!"
    "Pooh!" she replied, with a toss of her head. "I don't need any luck, thank you!"
    "No," he said thoughtfully, "I suppose you don't. Anyone who can come out of a rocket—as you did