HOW TRUE TILDA CAME TO DOLOROUS GARD "_Dauntless the slug-horn to my lips I set.

And blew 'Childe Roland to the Dark Tower came.'_" BROWNING.
Fifty years before, the Hospital of the Good Samaritan had been the pet "charity" of a residential suburb.

Factories and slums had since crowded in upon it, ousting the residents and creeping like a tide over the sites of their gardens and villas.

The street kept its ancient width, and a few smoke-blackened trees--lilacs, laburnums, limes, and one copper-beech--still dignified the purlieus.

Time, ruthless upon these amenities, had spared, and even enlarged, the hospital.
It stood on the shaded side of the street.