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There is a time and place for all things; and like the master of Ravenscourt, "I bide my time." The frigate dashed gallantly through the water, at one time careening to an adverse wind, at another rolling, before a favouring gale: and, to judge from her rapid motion, she was not in such very bad trim as Captain Carrington had found out.
From here it proceeds midway in the river to a point almost opposite the end of Chiswick Ait, then northward up British Grove as far as Ravenscourt Gardens; almost due north to within a few yards of the Stamford Brook Road; it follows the trend of that road to the North and South Western Junction Railway.
Just outside the parish boundary are two old houses of brick in the style of the seventeenth century; they used to be known as Stamford Brook Manor House, but they have no authentic history. Starch Green Road branches off from the Goldhawk Road opposite Ravenscourt Park; this road, running up into the Askew Road, was formerly known by the still more extraordinary name of Gaggle Goose Green.
She told how he had tempted her to desert her husband and flee from Paris with him; how he had met her five years later in London, and planned the infamous scheme which brought Jack and Diane together on Richmond Terrace; and she declared that it was Victor Nevill also who sent the anonymous letters to Madge Foster, the second of which had led to the painful denouement in the Ravenscourt Park studio.
Nor will it forget the day of your re-emergence, purged in the fire of calamity, cleansed of your oligarchic corruptions, when, sword in hand, you drove the Empire of Hammersmith back mile by mile, swept it past its own Broadway, and broke it at last in a battle so long and bloody that the birds of prey have left their name upon it. Men have called it, with austere irony, the Ravenscourt.
Korner of the domestic staff, entering at the moment with three boiled eggs and a teapot. "Yus, I've told 'im," replied the staff indignantly. The domestic staff at Acacia Villa, Ravenscourt Park, lived in a state of indignation. It could be heard of mornings and evenings saying its prayers indignantly. "What did he say?" "Said 'e'11 be down the moment 'e's dressed."
I have even heard, and with deep pain I have heard it, that the evil eye of our imperial envy has been cast towards the remote horizon of the west, and that we have objected to the great black monument of a crowned raven, which commemorates the skirmish of Ravenscourt Park. Who created all these things? Were they there before we came?
He buried his face in his hands, and his body shook with the violence of the sobs he was powerless to stifle. "It will do him good," thought Jimmie. The clock ticked on, and at intervals there was the rumble of trains passing to and from Ravenscourt Park station, and the clang of distant tram-bells. The voice of mighty London mocked at Jack's misery, and he conquered his emotions.
Sir Richard Gurney, Lord Mayor of London, bought the manor in 1631. It was several times sold and resold, and in Faulkner's time belonged to one George Scott. It had only then recently begun to be known as Ravenscourt. The house was granted to the commissioners of the public library by the London County Council at a nominal rent, and the library was opened by Sir John Lubbock, March 19, 1890.
He sauntered to the huge end window of the studio, and looked out over the charming stretch of Ravenscourt Park. It was an ideal morning toward the close of April, 1897 such a morning as one finds at its best in the western suburbs of mighty London. The trees were in fresh leaf and bud, the crocuses were blooming in the well-kept beds, and the grass was a sheet of glittering emeralds.
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