“Not come home at all!” echoed Pina’s mistress, aghast.
“Why you see, ma’am, it will be dangerous. Only look out. The fences are nearly all covered and the snow is still falling,” said the girl, pointing through the windows of the kitchen where this conversation took place.
“I see,” sighed the lonely wife, and her heart seemed to sink like lead in her bosom. But then she took herself to task and said:
“Why should I feel so miserable because my husband must stay away from me for one night? I would much rather that he should stay all night in Washington than risk his life in attempting to return home in the darkness, through such a snow-storm as this, in which all landmarks seem to be lost.”
And so she tried to reason with her longing heart.
At night, however, it stopped snowing. But the wind came up from the northwest and blew very hard, and the new fallen snow began to freeze as firm as adamant.
“What do you think now, Pina? Do you think your master can get home?” inquired the master’s wife of her maid.
“Lor, ma’am, why this is worse than the other.”
“What is, Pina?”
“This freeze is worse than the falling snow, ma’am; because it will make the roads all as slippery as glass; so, even if his horse is rough shod, master will hardly be able to get home.”