“Yes, yes, I’m getting old,” said Miss Lark, as she peered through her wisps of hair. “I’ll forget you again, my darling Princes! But, oh, do not forget me! What shall I give you to remember me by? I have lost –” she scrabbled in her pockets – “so many of my possessions!”
“We will never forget you,” said Veritain gently. “And you’ve given us something already.”
He drew his velvet sleeve aside and showed her the glitter at his wrist.
“My bracelet! But it’s only glass!”
“No!” cried Veritain. “Rubies! Sapphires!”
He raised his hand above his head and the bracelet shone so bright in the sunset that it dazzled every eye.
“Golly!” the Policeman muttered. “He’s stolen the Crown Jewels!”
“Oh!” breathed Miss Lark, as she clasped her hands and gazed at the shining stones.
“I understand,” she murmured softly. “Professor, Professor, do you see?”
But the Professor put his hand to his eyes and turned his head away.
“I have seen too much,” he said sadly. “I have seen how foolish I am! Books!” he cried, tossing the volume from him. “Magnifying-glasses!” He flung the glass among the roses. “Alas, alas! I have wasted my time. Florimond, Veritain, Amor – I recognise you now!” He turned his tearful face to the Princes.
“Oh, Beauty, Truth and Love,” he whispered. “To think that I knew you when I was a lad! To think that I could forget! All day long you ran at my side. And your voices called to me in the dusk – Follow! Follow! Follow! I see it now – I’ve been looking for wisdom. But wisdom was there and I turned my back. I’ve been running away from it ever since, trying to find it in books. So far away –” the Professor hid his face in his arm – “that when I met a Unicorn, I imagined I could have him stuffed! Oh, how can I make up for that? I have no rose, no jewels, nothing.”
He glanced about him doubtfully and put his hand to his forehead. And as he did so his face cleared. A happy thought had struck him.
“Take this, my child!” he said to Amor, as he plucked the newspaper hat from his brow. “Your way is long and the night will be chilly and you’ve nothing on your head!”
“Thank you, Professor!” Amor smiled and set the hat at a jaunty angle over his crown of curls. “I hope you will not be cold without it.”
“Cold?” the Professor murmured vaguely, as his gaze slipped past the Princes to the snow-white creature on the lawn. He put out an aged, trembling hand and the Unicorn rose from the dewy grass and calmly came to his side.
“Forgive me!” the Professor whispered. “It was not I that would have stuffed you. A madman wearing my skin – not I! No, no! I’ll never be cold again. I have stroked a Unicorn!”
His fingers touched the milky neck. The Unicorn stood mild and still. His blue eyes did not flicker.
“That’s right, Professor!” said the Policeman cheerfully. “No good trying to stuff a h’animal that by rights belongs to the Law!”
“He belongs to the Law,” the Professor murmured. “But not the Law you know—”
“The Fair!” insisted Mr Mudge, elbowing past the Policeman.
“Yes! All is Fair where he comes from.” The Professor stroked the Unicorn’s nose.
“He’ll be among the stars of the Zoo,” the Zoo Keeper promised breathlessly.
“He’ll be among the stars,” said the Professor, touching the tip of the Unicorn’s horn, “but far, far from the Zoo.”
“Exactly, Professor! You’re a sensible chap! Now, I’ve no more time for h’argument. The boys and the beast are under arrest and I’m taking them off to the Police Station!”
The Policeman put out a determined hand and seized the Unicorn’s bridle.
“Quick, Florimond!” warned Mary Poppins.
And Florimond, with a single bound, leapt on the Unicorn’s back.
Up went Veritain behind him.
“Goodbye, Michael,” whispered Amor, hugging him round the waist. Then with a graceful, running leap he landed behind his brothers.
“Oh, do not leave me!” cried Miss Lark. “I may forget again!”
“I won’t forget!” said Michael stoutly, waving his hand to Amor.
“Nor I! Oh, never!” echoed Jane, with a long look at Florimond and Veritain. She felt that their faces were in her heart for ever.
“If you remember, we’ll come again!” Florimond promised, smiling. “Are you ready, my brothers? We must go!”
“Ready!” the younger Princes cried.
Then one by one they leant sideways and kissed Mary Poppins.
“We’ll be waiting for you,” said Florimond.
“Do not be long!” urged Veritain.
“Come back to us,” said Amor, laughing, “with a tulip in your hat!”
She tried to look stern, but she simply couldn’t. Her firm lips trembled into a smile as she gazed at their shining faces.
“Get along with you – and behave yourselves!” she said with surprising softness.
Then she raised her parrot-headed umbrella and touched the Unicorn’s flank.
At once he lifted his silver head and pointed his horn at the sky.
“Remember!” cried Florimond, waving his roses.
Veritain held his hand aloft and set the bracelet sparkling.
Amor flourished the handkerchief.
“Remember! Remember!” they cried together, as the Unicorn bounded into the air.
The Park seemed to tremble in the fading light as his hooves flashed over the fountain. A streak of colour shone above the spray, a shimmer of velvet and gold. A single moment of moving brightness and after that – nothing. Princes and Unicorn were gone. Only a far, faint echo – “Remember!” – came back to the silent watchers. And the pages of the book on the lawn stirred in the evening breeze.
“After them!” the Policeman shouted. “Robbers! Desperadoes!”
He blew his whistle vigorously and dashed across the Rose Garden.
“A trick! A trick!” yelled Mr Mudge. “The Invisible Horse and his Three Riders! Why, it’s better than Sawing a Lady in Half! Come back, my lads, and I’ll buy your secret! Was it this way? That way? Where did they go?”
And off he went, dodging among the trees, in his search for the lost Princes.
“Oh, dear,” moaned the Keeper of the Zoological Gardens. “Here today and gone tomorrow! Just like the butterflies!”
He gave Mary Poppins a nervous look and hurried away to the Zoo.
For a moment the only sound in the garden was the music of the fountain. Then Miss Lark sighed and broke the silence.
“Why, goodness me – how late it is! Now, I wonder where I left my gloves! And what did I do with my scarf? I seem to have lost my spectacles. Gracious, yes – and my bracelet too!”
Her eyes widened and she yawned a little as though she were coming out of a dream.
“You gave it to Veritain!” Jane reminded her.
“Veritain? Veritain? Who can that be? It sounds like something out of a story. I expect you are dreaming, Jane, as usual! Andrew and Willoughby – come along! Oh, Chief Professor! How nice to see you! But what are you doing here?”
The Professor gave her a puzzled glance and he too yawned a little.
“I – I’m not quite sure,” he answered vaguely.
“And without a hat – you must be cold! Come home with me, Professor, do! And we’ll all have muffins for tea.”
“Muffins? Er – hum. I used to like muffins when I was a lad, but I haven’t had one since. And I had a hat this afternoon. Now, what have I done with it?”
“Amor is wearing it!” cried Michael.
“Amor? Is that a friend of yours? He’s welcome! It was only paper. But I’m not a bit cold, Miss Lark – er – hum! I have never felt so warm in my life.”
The Professor smiled a contented smile.
“And I,” said Miss Lark with a trill of laughter, “have never felt so happy. I can’t think why – but there it is. Come, dearest dogs! Th
is way, Professor!”
And, taking the Professor by the hand, she led him out of the Rose Garden.
Jane and Michael stared after them.
“What is your other – er – hum! – name?” they heard him vaguely asking.
“Lucinda Emily,” she replied, as she drew him towards the Gate.
“Eee – ow – oo! I was ’arf asleep!” The Park Keeper yawned and stretched his arms and glanced around the garden.
“’Ere! Wot’s all this?” he demanded loudly. “Someone’s been pickin’ the flowers!”
“You did it yourself,” said Jane, laughing.
“Don’t you remember?” Michael reminded him. “You gave them to Florimond.”
“What? Me pick a rose? I wouldn’t dare! And yet. . .”The Park Keeper frowned in perplexity. “It’s funny. I’m feeling quite brave tonight. If the Lord Mayor himself were to come along, I wouldn’t so much as tremble. And why shouldn’t Florrie Wat’s-a-name ’ave them, instead of them dyin’ on the bush? Well, I must be gettin’ ’ome to me mother. Tch! Tch! Tch! Remember the Bye-laws!” The Park Keeper pounced on two dark objects.
“All Litter to be placed in the Baskets!” he cried, as he bore away the Professor’s book and magnifying-glass and dumped them into a litter-basket.
Jane sighed. “They’ve forgotten already, all of them. Miss Lark, the Professor, and now the Park Keeper.”
“Yes,” agreed Michael, shaking his head.
“And what have you forgotten, pray?” Mary Poppins’ eyes were bright in the sunset and she seemed to come back to the Rose Garden from very far away.
“Oh, nothing, Mary Poppins, nothing!” With the happy assurance they ran to her side. As if they could ever forget the Princes and the strange and wonderful visit!
“Then what is that book doing there?” She pointed her black-gloved finger at The Silver Fairy Book.
“Oh, that!” Michael darted to get it.
“Wait for me, Mary Poppins!” he cried, pushing his way through the watching crowd that was still staring up at the sky.
The Match Man took the perambulator and sent it creaking out of the garden. Mary Poppins stood still in the entrance with her parrot umbrella under her arm and her handbag hanging from her wrist.
“I remember everything,” said Michael, as he hurried back to her side. “And so does Jane – don’t you, Jane? And you do too, Mary Poppins!” The three of us, he thought to himself, we all remember together.
Mary Poppins quickened her steps and they caught up with the perambulator.
“I remember that I want my tea, if that’s what you mean!” she said.
“I wonder if Amor drinks tea!” mused Michael, running beside her.
“Tea!” cried the Match Man thirstily. “Hot and strong, that’s how I like it. And at least three lumps of sugar!”
“Do you think they’re nearly home, Mary Poppins? How long is it from here to there?” Michael was thinking about the Princes. He could not get them out of his head.
“I’m nearly home, that’s all I know,” she replied conceitedly.
“They’ll come again, they said they would!” He skipped with joy at the thought. Then he remembered something else and stood stock-still with dismay.
“But you won’t go back to them, Mary Poppins?” He seized her arm and shook it. “We need you more than the Princes do. They’ve got the Unicorn – that’s enough. Oh, p-p-please, Mary P-pop-pins!” He was now so anxious he could hardly speak. “P-p-promise me you won’t go back with a t-t-tulip in your hat!”
She stared at him in angry astonishment.
“Princes with tulips in their hats? Me on the back of a Unicorn? If you’re so good at remembering, I’ll thank you to remember me! Am I the kind of person that would gallop around on a—”
“No, no! You’re mixing it all up. You don’t understand, Mary Poppins!”
“I understand that you’re behaving like a Hottentot. Me on a Unicorn, indeed! Let me go, Michael, if you please. I hope I can walk without assistance. And you can do the same!”
“Oh! Oh! She’s forgotten already!” he wailed, turning to Jane for comfort.
“But the Match Man remembers, don’t you, Bert?” Impulsively Jane ran to him and looked for his reassuring smile.
The Match Man took no notice. He was pushing the perambulator on a zigzag course and gazing at Mary Poppins. You would have thought she was the only person in the world, the way he looked at her.
“You see! He’s forgotten too,” said Michael. “But it must have happened, mustn’t it, Jane? After all, I’ve got the dagger!”
He felt for the dagger in his belt, but his hand closed on nothing.
“It’s gone!” he stared at her mournfully. “He must have taken it when he hugged me goodbye. Or else it wasn’t true at all. Do you think we only dreamed it?”
“Perhaps,” she answered uncertainly, glancing from the empty belt to the calm and unexcited faces of the Match Man and Mary Poppins. “But, oh –” she thought of Florimond’s smiling eyes – “I was so sure they were real!”
They took each other’s hands for comfort and leaning their heads on each other’s shoulders they walked along together, thinking of the three bright figures and the gentle fairy steed.
Dusk fell about them as they went. The trees like shadows bent above them. And as they came to the big gate they stepped into a pool of light from the newly lit lamp in the Lane.
“Let’s look at them once again,” said Jane. Sad it would be, but also sweet, to see their pictured faces. She took the book from Michael’s hand and opened it at the well-known page.
“Yes! The dagger’s in his belt,” she murmured. “Just as it always was.” Then her eyes roved over the rest of the picture and she gave a quick, glad cry.
“Oh, Michael, look! It was not a dream. I knew, I knew it was true!”
“Where? Where? Show me quickly!” He followed her pointing finger.
“Oh!” he cried, drawing in his breath. And “Oh!” he said. And again “Oh!” There was nothing else to say.
For the picture was not as it had been. The fruits and flowers still shone on the tree and there on the grass the Princes stood with the Unicorn beside them.
But now in the crook of Florimond’s arm there lay a bunch of roses; a little circlet of coloured stones gleamed on Veritain’s wrist; Amor was wearing a paper hat perched on the back of his head and from the pocket of his jerkin there peeped a lace-edged handkerchief.
Jane and Michael smiled down on the page. And the three Princes smiled up from the book and their eyes seemed to twinkle in the lamplight.
“They remember us!” declared Jane in triumph.
“And we remember them!” crowed Michael. “Even if Mary Poppins doesn’t.”
“Oh, indeed?” her voice enquired behind them.
They glanced up quickly and there she stood, a pink-cheeked Dutch Doll figure, as neat as a new pin.
“And what have I forgotten, pray?”
She smiled as she spoke, but not at them. Her eyes were fixed on the three Princes. She nodded complacently at the picture and then at the Match Man who nodded back.
And suddenly Michael understood. He knew that she remembered. How could he and Jane have dared to imagine that she would ever forget!
He turned and hid his face in her skirt.
“You’ve forgotten nothing, Mary Poppins. It was just my little mistake.”
“Little!” She gave an outraged sniff.
“But tell me, Mary Poppins,” begged Jane, as she looked from the coloured picture-book to the confident face above her. “Which are the children in the story – the Princes, or Jane and Michael?”
Mary Poppins was silent for a moment. She glanced at the children before her. Her eyes were as blue as the Unicorn’s, as she took Jane’s hand in hers.
They waited breathlessly for her answer.
It seemed to tremble on her lips. The words were on the tip of her tongue. And then – she changed her mind. Pe
rhaps she remembered that Mary Poppins never told anyone anything.
She smiled a tantalising smile.
“I wonder!” she said.
Chapter Five
THE PARK IN THE PARK
“ANOTHER SANDWICH, PLEASE!” said Michael, sprawling across Mary Poppins’ legs as he reached for the picnic basket.
It was Ellen’s Day Out and Mrs Brill had gone to see her cousin’s niece’s new baby. So the children were having tea in the Park, away by the Wild Corner.
This was the only place in the Park that was never mown or weeded. Clover, daisies, buttercups, bluebells, grew as high as the children’s waists. Nettles and dandelions flaunted their blossoms, for they knew very well that the Park Keeper would never have time to root them out. None of them Observed the Rules. They scattered their seeds across the lawns, jostled each other for the best places, and crowded together so closely that their stems were always in shadowy darkness.
Mary Poppins, in a sprigged cotton dress, sat bolt upright in a clump of bluebells.
She was thinking, as she darned the socks, that pretty though the Wild Corner was, she knew of something prettier. If it came to a choice between, say, a bunch of clover and herself, it would not be the clover she would choose.
The four children were scattered about her.
Annabel bounced in the perambulator.
And not far off, among the nettles, the Park Keeper was making a daisy-chain.
Birds were piping on every bough, and the Ice Cream Man sang cheerfully as he trundled his barrow along.
The notice on the front said:
THE DAY IS HOT
BUT ICE CREAM’S NOT
“I wonder if he’s coming here,” Jane murmured to herself.
She was lying face downwards in the grass, making little Plasticine figures.
“Where have those sandwiches gone?” cried Michael, scrabbling in the basket.
“Be so kind, Michael, as to get off my legs. I am not a Turkey carpet! The sandwiches have all been eaten. You had the last yourself.”
Mary Poppins heaved him on to the grass and took up her darning needle. Beside her, a mug of warm tea, sprinkled with grass seed and nettle flowers, sent up a delicious fragrance.
“But, Mary Poppins, I’ve only had six!”