Great crimson roses, wet with dew, and odorous woodbine peeped in as she opened it.

The night-wind was heavy with the perfume of the sleeping flowers, the golden stars were shining in the sky, and she raised her pale, lovely face to the radiant heavens.
"My God!" she prayed, "take pity on me, and before I realize what has happened, let me die!" "Let me die!" No other prayer went from her lips, although she sat there from sunset until the early dawn of the new day flushed in the glorious eastern skies.
While she sits there, with that despairing prayer rising from the depths of her despairing heart, we will tell the story of Marian Arleigh's penance..