she never knew what to say when assailed by the older woman's tongue.
She just wrote Maurice, helplessly, that she was going abroad.

He was panic-stricken. Going abroad? Uncle Henry's ancient dame was a
she-devil, to carry her off! Then, in the midst of his anger, he
recognized his opportunity: "The hell-cat has done me a good turn, I do
believe! I'll get her! Bless the woman! I'll pay her passage myself, if
she'll only go and never come back!"

It was on the heels of Mrs. Newbolt's candor about Eleanor's
"capableness" that he swept her resistance away. "You've _got_ to marry
me," he told her; "that's all there is to it." He put his hand in his
pocket and pulled out a marriage license. "I'll call for you to-morrow
at ten; we'll go to the mayor's office. I've got it all fixed up. So,
you see there's no getting out of it."

"But," she protested, dazzled by the sheer, beautiful, impertinence of
it, "Maurice, I can't--I won't--I--"

"You _will_," he said. "To-morrow's Saturday," he added, practically,
"and there's no school, so you're free." He rose.... "Better leave a
letter for your aunt. I'll be here at five minutes to ten. Be ready!" He
paused and looked hard at her; caught her roughly in his arms, kissed
her on her mouth, and walked out of the room.

The mere violence of it lifted her into the Great Adventure! When he
commanded, "Be ready!" she, with a gasp, said, "Yes."

Well; they had gone to the mayor's office, and been married; then they
had got on a car and ridden through Mercer's dingy outskirts to the end