After our little chat with Henny we have tried to keep her spirits up .Mooney said we should take the bus to town in Purple Sprouting and buy her some new boots. Her nephew Rupert had told us she used to wear the most exquisite little red ones lined with white fur. As the bus passed our market we noticed a rather gawdy stall , I was a bit slow but Moony had the sense to shout "oh look over there " to Henny who only saw the local church spire but danger was passed.I ,on the other hand, had caught the sight of that awful Nell in a low-cut Gypsy blouse selling oranges ( well citrus friut in general ) . She was bellowing like a fish-wife as I'd expect with several snot-covered brats hanging on her arms . It was so horrible and worse Mr President's car had pulled up and he was chatting merrily with the old trout.
In town we found the perfect boots for Henny even though she takes a child's size .She was so happy and talked about the old days when she'd wear them in the evenings in those drafty old palaces .Luckily the market was closed when we came home. As we arrived at Henny's little cottage we heard cross words in a Scots voice and a deep one with a hint of German ( picked up from his dear cousin ) .Charles was arguing with Charles about having a sense of decency and morality ( wasted words there) . Big Charles stormed out , Mooney winked at him .Henny ran to little Charles and they spoke French as we shuffled our feet . Charles ( ever the gentleman) apologised and invited us to a drop of Scotch to warm us up . He is not one to share his feelings or emotions but Henny fussed over him and he did take a ginger biscuit after much pushing. I fear there will be more family arguments .