When that business was over, he applied to Miss Bingley and Elizabeth

for the indulgence of some music. Miss Bingley moved with alacrity to

the pianoforte, and after a polite request that Elizabeth would lead the

way, which the other as politely and more earnestly negatived, she

seated herself.
Mrs. Hurst sang with her sister; and while they were thus employed,

Elizabeth could not help observing, as she turned over some music-books

that lay on the instrument, how frequently Mr. Darcy’s eyes were fixed

on her. She hardly knew how to suppose that she could be an object of

admiration to so great a man, and yet that he should look at her because

he disliked her was still more strange. She could only imagine, however,

at last, that she drew his notice because there was something about her

more wrong and reprehensible, according to his ideas of right, than in

any other person present.{66} The supposition did not pain her. She liked

him too little to care for his approbation.
After playing some Italian songs, Miss Bingley varied the charm by a

lively Scotch air; and soon afterwards Mr. Darcy, drawing near

Elizabeth, said to her,—
“Do you not feel a great inclination, Miss Bennet, to seize such an

opportunity of dancing a reel?”
She smiled, but made no answer. He repeated the question, with some

surprise at her silence.
“Oh,” said she, “I heard you before; but I could not immediately

determine what to say in reply. You wanted me, I know, to say ‘Yes,’

that you might have the pleasure of despising my taste; but I always

delight in overthrowing those kind of schemes, and cheating a person of

their premeditated contempt. I have, therefore, made up my mind to tell

you that I do not want to dance a reel at all; and now despise me if you

dare.”
“Indeed I do not dare.”
Elizabeth, having rather expected to affront him, was amazed at his

gallantry; but there was a mixture of sweetness and archness in her