Margaret Oliphant: 8 books

The Ways of Life: Two Stories written by Margaret Oliphant who was a Scottish novelist and historical writer. This book was published in 1897. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally...

The Unjust Steward or The Minister's Debt written by Margaret Oliphant who was a Scottish novelist and historical writer. This book was published in 1896. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean...

Old Mr. Tredgold written by Margaret Oliphant who was a Scottish novelist and historical writer. This book was published in 1895. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance...

A House in Bloomsbury written by Margaret Oliphant who was a Scottish novelist and historical writer. This book was published in 1894. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance...

It was the most exciting event which had ever occurred in the family, and everything was affected by it. Imagine to yourselves such a young family, all in the very heyday of life, parents and children alike. It is true that Mrs. Kingsward was something of an invalid, but nobody believed that her illness...

“WE are to see each other no more.” These words were breathed rather than spoken in the dim recess of a window, hidden behind ample curtains, the deep recess in which the window was set leaving room enough for two figures standing close together. Without was a misty night, whitened rather than lighted by a pale moon.

I KNOW no reason why I should begin my story of the fortunes of the Harleys by a description of my own son. Perhaps it is just because there is no reason whatever that I feel so much disposed to do it—also because the appearance of that son is the only difference that has come to my own life since...

IT was an old manor-house, not a deserted convent, as you might suppose by the name. The conventual buildings from which no doubt the place had taken its name, had dropped away, bit by bit, leaving nothing but one wall of the chapel, now closely veiled and mantled with ivy, behind the orchard, about...