Forty years ago St.Asaph's had been nothing more than a little frame church with a tin spire, away in the west of the slums, and St.Osoph's a square, diminutive building away in the east.

But the site of St.Asaph's had been bought by a brewing company, and the trustees, shrewd men of business, themselves rising into wealth, had rebuilt it right in the track of the advancing tide of a real estate boom.

The elders of St.Osoph, quiet men, but illumined by an inner light, had followed suit and moved their church right against the side of an expanding distillery.

Thus both the churches, as decade followed decade, made their way up the slope of the City till St.Asaph's was presently gloriously expropriated by the street railway company, and planted its spire in triumph on Plutoria Avenue itself.
But St.Osoph's followed.

With each change of site it moved nearer and nearer to St.Asaph's.