O. Douglas

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The Proper Place is delightful reading and is Miss O. Douglas at her best. The story deals with the Rutherfurd family, who have to leave their beautiful country house and all their friends on Tweedside and settle in the littler Fife sea town of Kirkmeikle. Here, Lady Jane and the attractive, friendly Nicole rapidly make a niche for themselves until we feel it is indeed Kirkmeikle that is their "proper place." It is a joy to read of their endless ability to give happiness to all with whom they come in contact - inculding their readers. This book is as fresh and invigorating as the sea breezes of Fife.

The book, "" Ann and Her Mother "", has been considered important throughout the human history, and so that this work is never forgotten we have made efforts in its preservation by republishing this book in a modern format for present and future generations. This whole book has been reformatted, retyped and designed. These books are not made of scanned copies and hence the text is clear and readable.

This collection of literature attempts to compile many of the classic works that have stood the test of time and offer them at a reduced, affordable price, in an attractive volume so that everyone can enjoy them.

"The actors are at hand, And by their show You shall know all that you are like to know." Midsummer Night's Dream. It was tea-time in Priorsford: four-thirty by the clock on a chill October afternoon. The hills circling the little town were shrouded with mist. The wide bridge that spanned the Tweed and divided the town proper-the Highgate, the Nethergate, the Eastgate-from the residential part was almost deserted. On the left bank of the river, Peel Tower loomed ghostly in the gathering dusk. Round its grey walls still stood woods of larch and fir, and in front the links of Tweed moved through pleasant green pastures. But where once ladies on palfreys hung with bells hunted with their cavaliers there now stood the neat little dwellings of prosperous, decent folk; and where the good King James wrote his rhymes, and listened to the singing of Mass from the Virgin's Chapel, the Parish Kirk reared a sternly Presbyterian steeple. No need any longer for Peel to light the beacon telling of the coming of our troublesome English neighbours. Telegraph wires now carried the matter, and a large bus met them at the trains and conveyed them to that flamboyant pile in red stone, with its glorious views, its medicinal baths, and its band-enlivened meals, known as Priorsford Hydropathic. As I have said, it was tea-time in Priorsford. The schools had skailed, and the children, finding in the weather little encouragement to linger, had gone to their homes. In the little houses down by the riverside brown teapots stood on the hobs, and rosy-faced women cut bread and buttered scones, and slapped their children with a fine impartiality; while in the big houses on the Hill, servants, walking delicately, laid out tempting tea-tables, and the solacing smell of hot toast filled the air.