Mary Poppins Comes Back. P. Travers L.

large coat with a fur collar was wrapped about her, a man’s felt hat was perched on her head, and from the hat floated a long grey veil. With one hand she held up the folds of her skirt and from the other swung a circular object covered with a checked cloth.

      The children crept cautiously along by the fence, gazing with interest at the huge figure, with its beaked nose, grim mouth, and small eyes that peered angrily from behind glasses. They were almost deafened by her voice as she argued with the Taxi-man.

      “Four and threepence!” she was saying. “Preposterous! I could go halfway round the world for that amount. I shan’t pay it. And I shall report you to the Police.”

      The Taxi-man shrugged his shoulders. “That’s the fare,” he said calmly. “If you can read, you can read it on the meter. You can’t go driving in a Taxi for love, you know, not with this luggage.”

      Miss Andrew snorted and, diving her hand into her large pocket, took out a very small purse. She handed over a coin. The Taxi-man looked at it and turned it over and over in his hand, as if he thought it a curiosity. Then he laughed rudely.

      “This for the Driver?” he remarked sarcastically.

      “Certainly not. It’s your fare. I don’t approve of tips,” said Miss Andrew.

      “You wouldn’t!” said the Taxi-man, staring at her. And to himself he remarked: “Enough luggage to fill ’arf the Park, and she doesn’t approve of tips – the ’Arpy!”

      But Miss Andrew did not hear him. The children had arrived at the gate and she turned to greet them, her feet ringing on the pavement and her veil flowing out behind her.

      “Well?” she said gruffly, smiling a thin smile. “I don’t suppose you know who I am?”

      “Oh, yes we do!” said Michael. He spoke in his friendliest voice, for he was very glad to meet Miss Andrew. “You’re the Holy Terror!”

      A dark, purple flush rose up from Miss Andrew’s neck and flooded her face.

      “You are a very rude, impertinent boy. I shall report you to your Father!”

      Michael looked surprised. “I didn’t mean to be rude,” he began. “It was Daddy who said—”

      “Tut! Silence! Don’t dare to argue with me!” said Miss Andrew. She turned to Jane.

      “And you’re Jane, I suppose? H’m. I never cared for the name.”

      “How do you do?” said Jane politely, but secretly thinking she did not care much for the name Euphemia.

      “That dress is much too short!” trumpeted Miss Andrew. “And you ought to be wearing stockings. Little girls in my day never had bare legs. I shall speak to your Mother.”

      “I don’t like stockings,” said Jane. “I only wear them in the Winter.”

      “Don’t be impudent. Children should be seen and not heard!” said Miss Andrew.

      She leant over the perambulator, and with her huge hand pinched the Twins’ cheeks in greeting.

      John and Barbara began to cry.

      “Tut! What manners!” exclaimed Miss Andrew. “Brimstone and Treacle – that’s what they need!” she went on, turning to Mary Poppins. “No well-brought-up child cries like that. Brimstone and Treacle. And plenty of it. Don’t forget.”

      “Thank you, ma’am,” said Mary Poppins, with icy politeness, “but I bring the children up in my own way and take advice from nobody.”

      Miss Andrew stared. She looked as if she could not believe her ears.

      Mary Poppins stared back, calm and unafraid.

      “Young woman,” said Miss Andrew, drawing herself up, “you forget yourself. How dare you answer me like that! I shall take steps to have you removed from this establishment! Mark my words!”

      She flung open the gate and strode up the path, furiously swinging the circular object under the checked cloth, and saying “Tut-tut!” over and over again.

      Mrs Banks came running out to meet her.

      “Welcome, Miss Andrew, welcome!” she said politely. “How kind of you to pay us a visit. Such an unexpected pleasure. I hope you had a good journey?”

      “Most unpleasant. I never enjoy travelling,” said Miss Andrew. She glanced with an angry, peering eye round the garden.

      “Disgracefully untidy!” she remarked disgustedly. “Take my advice and dig up those things –” she pointed to the sunflowers – “and plant evergreens. Much less trouble. Saves time and money. And looks neater. Better still, no garden at all. Just a plain, cement courtyard.”

      “But,” protested Mrs Banks gently, “I like flowers best!”

      “Ridiculous! Stuff and nonsense! You are a silly woman. And your children are very rude – especially the boy.”

      “Oh, Michael, I am surprised! Were you rude to Miss Andrew? You must apologise at once.” Mrs Banks was getting very nervous and flustered.

      “No, Mother, I wasn’t. I only—” He began to explain, but Miss Andrew’s loud voice interrupted.

      “He was most insulting,” she insisted. “He must go to a boarding-school at once. And the girl must have a Governess. I shall choose one myself. And as for the young person you have looking after them –” she nodded in the direction of Mary Poppins –“you must dismiss her this instant. She is impertinent, incapable and totally unreliable.”

      Mrs Banks was plainly horrified.

      “Oh, surely you are mistaken, Miss Andrew! We think she is such a Treasure.”

      “You know nothing about it. I am never mistaken. Dismiss her!”

      Miss Andrew swept on up the path.

      Mrs Banks hurried behind her, looking very worried and upset.

      “I – er – hope we shall be able to make you comfortable, Miss Andrew,” she said politely. But she was beginning to feel rather doubtful.

      “H’m. It’s not much of a house,” replied Miss Andrew. “And it’s in a shocking condition – peeling everywhere, and most dilapidated. You must send for a carpenter. And when were these steps white-washed? They’re very dirty.”

      Mrs Banks bit her lip. Miss Andrew was turning her lovely, comfortable house into something mean and shabby, and it made her feel very unhappy.

      “I’ll have them done tomorrow,” she said meekly.

      “Why not today?” demanded Miss Andrew. “No time like the present. And why paint your door white? Dark brown – that’s the proper colour for a door. Cheaper, and doesn’t show the dirt. Just look at those spots!”

      And putting down the circular object, she began to point out the marks on the front door.

      “There! There! There! Everywhere! Most disreputable!”

      “I’ll see to it immediately,” said Mrs Banks faintly. “Won’t you come upstairs now to your room?”

      Miss Andrew stamped into the hall after her.

      “I hope there is a fire in it.”

      “Oh, yes. A good one. This way, Miss Andrew. Robertson Ay will bring up your luggage.”

      “Well, tell him to be careful. The trunks are full of medicine bottles. I have to take care of my health!”

      Miss Andrew moved towards the stairs. She glanced round the hall.

      “This wall needs re-papering. I shall speak to George about it. And why, I should like to know, wasn’t he here to meet