The Long Way by Mary Imlay Taylor

It was much later in the evening when Charter finally escaped from Colonel Sedley and, under a pretext of looking out at the weather, made his way into the conservatory. The whole party of dinner guests had been much chagrined an hour before by the astounding news that they were snow-bound.

The predictions of Mrs. Billop's weather-man had been startlingly fulfilled, and had Sidney not escaped as he did, not even overshoes and a taxicab would have sufficed to get him home. The snow had drifted so heavily that no conveyances were at hand and even the telephone had gone quietly out of commission. There was nothing to do, as Astry said, but to stay the night with them. But this arrangement, accepted with more or less laughter and uneasiness by the others, was not to Charter's taste. He had found the evening bad enough as it was without prolonging it until morning, and he escaped from the drawing-room with the frank intention of taking French leave. He was too hardy a soldier to dread even the extreme cold, and he went now to the door of the conservatory to ascertain the depth of the drifts before he started. The frost had affected the electric system sufficiently to blot out many of the lamps and the shadowy aisles of the conservatory showed only an occasional light. A disgruntled parrot sat on the stem of the banana tree, but not even he uttered a sound as Charter passed on his way to the vestibule. As he opened the door, the cold seemed to pounce upon him and he saw nothing but a vast sheet of unbroken snow and sleet. But the tempest had ceased and the clouds were clearing away from a sky that was brilliant with stars.