marry her?

Again he inclined to the more prudent course of silence. He was not
afraid of any change in his own inclinations: of them he was sure. But
he looked upon it in this way: If he made a regular declaration to her
she would be bound to tell it to her father. He should not respect her
or like her so much if she did not. And yet this course would lead to
all the conversations, and discussions, and references to his own father,
which made his own direct appeal to Mr. Wilkins appear a premature step
to him.

Whereas he was as sure of Ellinor's love for him as if she had uttered
all the vows that women ever spoke; he knew even better than she did how
fully and entirely that innocent girlish heart was his own. He was too
proud to dread her inconstancy for an instant; "besides," as he went on
to himself, as if to make assurance doubly sure, "whom does she see?
Those stupid Holsters, who ought to be only too proud of having such a
girl for their cousin, ignore her existence, and spoke slightingly of her
father only the very last time I dined there. The country people in this
precisely Boeotian ---shire clutch at me because my father goes up to the
Plantagenets for his pedigree--not one whit for myself--and neglect
Ellinor; and only condescend to her father because old Wilkins was nobody-
knows-who's son. So much the worse for them, but so much the better for
me in this case. I'm above their silly antiquated prejudices, and shall
be only too glad when the fitting time comes to make Ellinor my wife.
After all, a prosperous attorney's daughter may not be considered an
unsuitable match for me--younger son as I am. Ellinor will make a
glorious woman three or four years hence; just the style my father
admires--such a figure, such limbs. I'll be patient, and bide my time,
and watch my opportunities, and all will come right."