Ten years later

A horse-drawn carriage careened down the road at a full gallop. Outside the carriage windows, the outskirts of London flashed by. Inside the dark, cramped cab, Alice Kingsleigh fidgeted with her dress. She wished she could be out in the sunshine with a book and a kitten, instead of stuck here on her way to a dreary, boring party with a lot of dreary people.

The little girl haunted by her nightmares had grown into a beautiful woman. There was something slightly unusual—and unearthly—about her beauty. Her large hazel eyes seemed to see things differently from other women her age.

Beside her on the carriage seat, Helen Kingsleigh fussed with Alice's hair. Alice's mother could never understand why Alice's wild blond mane was so unmanageable. Long golden curls seemed to escape no matter what Helen did to pin them all back.

Alice twitched grumpily as her mother yanked on a particularly intractable lock of hair.

"Must we go?" Alice asked. "I doubt they'll notice if we never arrive." She yawned hugely. Her body ached with tiredness, and the last thing she wanted to do was make polite conversation for hours.

"They will notice," her mother said firmly. She adjusted Alice's long blue skirt and reached to retie her waist sash. Her thin fingers poked probingly at Alice's stomach. Her eyebrows arched in surprise. "Where's your corset?" she asked, scandalized. What was the world coming to? Couldn't the child even dress herself? Dreading the worst, she lifted Alice's skirt above her ankles and gasped. "And no stockings!"

"I'm against them," Alice said with another yawn.

"But you're not properly dressed!" Helen pointed out. What would the Ascots think?

"Who's to say what is proper?" Alice said, with that maddening streak of impossible logic she'd inherited from her father. "What if it was agreed that ‘proper' was wearing a codfish on your head? Would you wear it?"

Helen closed her eyes. "Alice."

"To me a corset is like a codfish," Alice said.

"Please," said her mother. "Not today."

Alice sighed with frustration and turned to look out the window. "Father would have laughed," she muttered. Instantly, she felt a pang of guilt and turned back to her mother's hurt face. "I'm sorry. I'm tired. I didn't sleep well last night."

Her mother patted her hand forgivingly. "Did you have bad dreams again?"

"Only one," Alice said. Caterpillars and March hares and smiling cats flitted through her mind. She shook her head. "It's always the same, ever since I can remember. Do you think that's normal? Don't most people have different dreams?"

She gave her mother a searching look, but Helen was examining Alice's attire again with a thoughtful expression. She had never been as interested in Alice's dreams as Charles was.

"I don't know," Helen said vaguely. She removed a necklace from around her own neck and clasped it around Alice's with nimble fingers. "There! You're beautiful." She patted her daughter's pale cheek gently. "Now, can you manage a smile?"

The horses slowed to a trot as the carriage pulled up the long, sweeping drive in front of the Ascot mansion. Alice's head ached as she followed her mother out to the gardens, where the party was in full swing. Ladies in the newest style of summer dresses swooped about, twittering over the beautiful flowers like flocks of birds. In the near distance, small skiffs drifted lazily on a meandering river. A few guests were playing croquet on the wide great lawn, the colorful balls bright red, yellow, and blue against the neatly trimmed green of the grass.

Alice pressed her hands to her temples as a piece of her dream flashed before her eyes—equally silly-looking and stuffy guests, playing croquet with flamingos for mallets and hedgehogs for croquet balls. She would have laughed, but something about the scene in her mind filled her with dread. There was someone there … someone to fear.

She was distracted from the memory by her mother seizing her hand and hurrying her over to the Ascots. "Smile," Helen reminded her under her breath. Alice fixed an unnatural smile on her face as she curtsied to her elegant hosts.

Lord Ascot hadn't changed in ten years; he was still as ramrod stiff and unflappable as ever. His wife was not much better, although her composure seemed to be rattled today. Her face was red with annoyance as she looked Alice up and down. Alice was sure she noticed the missing corset and stockings. It made Alice want to poke out her tongue and then do a cartwheel, just to make sure Lady Ascot was as well and truly scandalized as she always looked.

"At last!" Lady Ascot burst out. "We thought you'd never arrive. Alice, Hamish is waiting to dance with you." She flapped her hands vigorously at Alice. "Go!"

Alice dutifully allowed herself to be shoved away and went looking for boring old Hamish, who also (very unfortunately) had changed very little in ten years.

Behind her, Lady Ascot lowered her voice as she turned to Helen. "You do realize it's well past four!" she scolded. "Now everything will have to be rushed through!"

"I am sorry," Helen said. She knew better than to explain the whole saga of trying to get Alice ready to go.

"Oh, never mind!" Lady Ascot said abruptly and bustled off, her sharp eyes fixed on a teetering tray of tea sandwiches.

Lord Ascot nodded down at Helen Kingsleigh. "Forgive my wife," he said in his stately baritone. "She's been planning this affair for the last twenty years."

Helen smiled back. She was used to Lady Ascot. "If only Charles were here," she said sadly.

Lord Ascot gave a little bow. "My condolences, madam. I think of your husband often. He was truly a man of wisdom. I hope you don't think I have taken advantage of your misfortune," Lord Ascot went on, looking serious.

"Of course not," Helen said, shaking her head. "I'm pleased that you've purchased the company."

There was much more she could say—how much she missed Charles, how often she thought of him, all of the wonderful things he was in addition to wise— but to express oneself in such a manner was not proper, so she kept her answers short and civilized.

The tall aristocrat allowed himself a small smile. "I was a fool for not investing in his mad venture when I had the chance."

Now Helen's smile was quite real. "Charles thought so, too," she teased.

Elsewhere in the garden, Alice had been drawn into a line dance with the Ascots' son, Hamish. They bowed and stepped and crossed and bowed along with the other young people at the party until Alice felt quite ready to scream with boredom.

"Hamish," she said lightly, "do you ever tire of the quadrille?"

Hamish was refined and immaculately dressed, like his parents. He radiated aristocratic arrogance and a sense of entitlement. His hands felt flabby and damp against hers, and he looked down his long nose at her as if he did not understand the question.

"On the contrary," he replied. "I find it invigorating." His strutting and preening made him look exactly like the peacocks in Holland Park in Kensington. Alice couldn't help laughing. Her golden hair flew out behind her as they spun around.

Hamish's eyebrows knitted together. "Do I amuse you?"

"No," Alice said, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "I had a sudden vision of all the ladies in top hats and the men wearing bonnets."

Hamish didn't even crack a smile. "It would be best to keep your visions to yourself. When in doubt, remain silent."

Alice had been hearing this advice her entire life, from everyone except her father. Now that he was gone, she felt as if there were no one else like her in the whole world. Her smile faded, and they kept dancing, although Alice had a hard time keeping her mind on the music. Her eyes drifted to the sky where a flock of geese sailed by overhead.

Distracted, she bumped into the dancers in front of them, who whirled around with outraged expressions.

"Pardon us!" Hamish jumped in officiously before Alice could apologize. "Miss Kingsleigh is distracted today." He ushered Alice away from the dancing green with a frown on his face. Alice glanced up at the sky again, but the geese were gone.

"Where is your head?" Hamish snapped at her.

"I was wondering what it would be like to fly," Alice said dreamily. Her father used to lift her over his head and whirl her, shrieking with delight, around the room. She imagined it would be something like that.

"Why would you waste your time thinking about such an impossible thing?" Hamish asked.

Alice laughed, a sound like silver bells in the sunlight. "Why wouldn't I?" she answered him. "My father said he sometimes believed in six impossible things before breakfast."

Nearly twenty-year-old Alice laughed again, remembering her father's stories. She didn't notice the pained expression on Hamish's face. He wished she could be like other Victorian girls: quiet, restrained, predictable. None of this peculiar talk about impossible things and breakfast. He glanced around and saw his mother hovering at the nearby tea table. Lady Ascot waved impatiently, fixing him with a "hurry up" glare.

Ahem. Hamish cleared his throat and turned to look down his nose at Alice again. "Alice, meet me under the gazebo in precisely ten minutes," he said.

Alice gave his retreating back a curious look. She didn't much like being ordered around. Precisely ten minutes! And how was she supposed to achieve that precisely, without a pocket watch of any sort? A real gentleman would have given her his, but then he wouldn't have been able to glare at it impatiently when she was late.

Amused by her own wayward train of thought, Alice stepped toward the refreshments table, but found her way blocked by a pair of giggling girls in gaudy pink and green dresses. The Chattaway sisters were notorious gossips, and from the looks on their faces, they were simply bursting to reveal something they shouldn't.

"We have a secret to tell you," Faith said eagerly.

"If you're telling me, then it's not much of a secret," Alice pointed out. She was not particularly fond of gossip herself.

Fiona clutched Faith's arm. "Perhaps we shouldn't."

"We decided we should!" Faith cried, looking betrayed.

"If we tell her, she won't be surprised," Fiona observed. Alice's interest was piqued. The secret involved her? Perhaps she did want to know after all. She enjoyed surprises even less than gossip.

Faith turned to Alice.

"Will you be surprised?" she demanded, clearly wanting the answer to be "yes."

"Not if you tell me," Alice said. "But now you've brought it up; you have to."

"No, we don't," Faith said. She drew herself up huffily.

"In fact, we won't!" Fiona agreed, looking equally indignant.

Alice sighed. Why did the Chattaways have to be so maddening at all the wrong times? Luckily, she had a trick up her sleeve. She folded her arms. "I wonder if your mother knows that you two swim naked in the Havershims' pond."

The sisters gasped simultaneously.

"You wouldn't!" cried Faith.

"Oh, but I would," said Alice. "There's your mother right now." She took a step toward Lady Chattaway, one of the women cooing over the flowers, and Fiona seized her elbow in a panic.

"Hamish is going to ask for your hand!" she blurted out.

Alice stopped dead. She blinked at Fiona and Faith, too astonished to speak. The two girls beamed and giggled, but their smiles fell as a hand landed on each of their shoulders. Alice's older sister Margaret stood behind them, looking very displeased.

"You've ruined the surprise!" she scolded them. With a push, she sent them off toward the river and pulled Alice aside. "I could strangle them!" she whispered, tucking her hand through Alice's arm. "Everyone went to so much effort to keep the secret."

In a daze, Alice glanced around at the other partygoers. Now she spotted how people kept looking at her, then away again quickly. Now she noticed how their whispers stopped suddenly as she passed. Now she saw the half-hidden smiles of glee on most of the women's faces, the knowing looks on the men. She felt a flutter of panic in her chest.

"Does everyone know?" she asked.

"It's why they've all come," Margaret said brightly. "This is your engagement party! Hamish will ask you under the gazebo." Margaret looked as if she couldn't imagine anything more thrilling. "When you say yes—"

Alice interrupted her. "But I don't know if I want to marry him."

Margaret's face was disbelieving. "Who then? You won't do better than a lord." They both looked over at Hamish, who was standing on the outskirts of the party muttering to himself, rehearsing his proposal, Alice realized. As they watched, he blew his nose vigorously, studied the contents of his handkerchief, then folded it and put it back in his pocket. Alice shuddered.

"You'll soon be twenty, Alice," Margaret said in a no-nonsense voice. She patted Alice's pale cheek. "That pretty face won't last forever. You don't want to end up like Aunt Imogene." She nodded at their middle-aged aunt, who was cramming small sweet cakes into her mouth. Imogene's cheeks were covered in a thick layer of rouge and her yellowing white dress was in a style much too young for her.

Margaret turned Alice around to face her. "And you don't want to be a burden on Mother, do you?"

Alice looked down. "No," she said quietly.

"So you will marry Hamish," Margaret said, satisfied. "You will be as happy as I am with Lowell, and your life will be perfect. It's already decided." Alice felt as if she were suffocating. The weight of everyone watching her, knowing she had no choice, pressed down on her. Would this have happened if Father were still alive? Surely he would never have made her marry Hamish … but he was gone, and there was nothing Alice could do about that. She had to marry Hamish.

It's already decided.

She was trapped.

十年后

一辆四轮马车歪歪斜斜地从小路上疾驰而过。车窗外，伦敦郊区的风光一闪而过。而在昏暗狭小的马车里，身穿长裙的爱丽丝·金斯利烦躁不安。她多么希望此刻能沐浴在阳光下，看看书，逗逗猫，而不是被困在马车里，奔赴一场枯燥无味、令人厌倦的派对，而且派对上还尽是些无聊的人。

从前那个噩梦缠身的小女孩已经出落得亭亭玉立，但是她的美——有一丝与众不同——又带着一丝神秘。她那双淡褐色的大眼睛看待事物的方式似乎总是不同于其他同龄女孩。

坐在爱丽丝旁边的海伦·金斯利手忙脚乱地打理着女儿的头发。她怎么也想不明白爱丽丝蓬乱的金色长发为什么这么难打理。无论海伦用什么方法把它们捋到爱丽丝脑后，爱丽丝长长的金色卷发似乎总想逃脱她的控制。

海伦猛地扯住一撮特别不好打理的头发时，疼痛让爱丽丝愤愤地抽搐着身子。

“我们非去不可吗？”爱丽丝问道，“我觉得即使我们不去，也没人会察觉。” 说完便打了个大大的哈欠。爱丽丝因为疲劳而感到浑身酸痛，此时最不想做的事情就是和那些无聊的人们客套上好几个小时。

“他们会察觉的。”母亲笃定地说。她调整着爱丽丝长长的蓝色裙摆，准备重新帮爱丽丝系腰带。她伸出细长的手指试探性地戳了戳爱丽丝的腹部，惊讶地皱起了眉头。“你的束胸衣呢？”她恼怒地问道。这世界到底怎么了？孩子连得体的穿着都不会了吗？最让她震惊的是，当她把爱丽丝的裙子提到脚踝上方时，她惊讶得倒吸了一口气，说道：“连长筒袜也没穿！”

“我讨厌穿长筒袜。”爱丽丝又打了一个哈欠说道。

“但是你穿成这样不得体！”母亲说。阿斯科特他们家会怎么想？

“是谁规定什么样的穿着才算得体？”爱丽丝继承了父亲疯狂的“不可能逻辑”的个性，顶了母亲一句。“如果说要在头上戴一条鳕鱼才算得体呢？你愿意戴吗？”

海伦无奈地闭上眼睛说：“爱丽丝。”

“对我来说束胸衣和鳕鱼没什么两样。”爱丽丝说。

“拜托，今天别这样好吗？”母亲请求道。

爱丽丝沮丧地叹了口气，撇过头看着窗外。“父亲会笑话我的吧。”她喃喃自语道。突然，她感到一阵自责，回过头看见母亲一脸受伤的表情。“对不起，我只是累了，昨晚没睡好。”

母亲宽容地拍了拍她的手，问：“又做噩梦了？”

“只有那一个。”爱丽丝回答。蓝毛虫、三月兔还有那只会笑的猫又从她脑海中掠过。她摇摇头接着说：“自打我记事以来，总是做同一个梦。你觉得这正常吗？不是大多数人都会做不同的梦吗？”

她用锐利的目光盯着母亲，但海伦只是检查爱丽丝的着装，一脸若有所思的样子。她从来不会像查尔斯那样对爱丽丝的梦感兴趣。

“我不知道。”海伦心不在焉地回答。她灵活地从自己的脖子上摘下项链给爱丽丝戴上。“看！多漂亮呀！”她轻轻拍拍女儿苍白的脸颊说道，“现在笑一笑好吗？”

马车驶入阿斯科特府邸前冗长干净的车道时，马儿放慢了前进的速度。跟着母亲走下马车进入花园时，爱丽丝感到头疼，那里正进行着热闹的派对。身穿最新款夏装的女士们蜂拥而至，像一群唧唧喳喳的鸟儿一样，围着漂亮的花儿说个不停。不远处，小船闲散地漂荡在蜿蜒的小河上。一些客人正在宽阔的草坪上打槌球。在修剪齐整的绿色草坪的映衬下，这些红色的、黄色的、蓝色的球显得越发鲜艳。

当梦中零散的记忆从她眼前闪过，爱丽丝用手按了按太阳穴——梦里看上去同样愚蠢呆板的客人正打着槌球，他们把火烈鸟当作木槌，把刺猬当作球。她本应该觉得好笑才对，但脑海中的场景让她感到一阵莫名的恐惧。有个人在那儿……这个人让她感到害怕。

母亲拽着爱丽丝的手匆忙带她走向阿斯科特一家时，爱丽丝被猛地拉回了现实。“笑一笑。”海伦低声提醒她。爱丽丝朝优雅的主人们行屈膝礼时，摆出一副不自然的微笑。

十年了，阿斯科特勋爵还是老样子，和从前一样严厉、拘谨，一副镇定自若的样子。他的妻子也好不到哪去，尽管今天阿斯科特夫人似乎有点沉不住气。当她上下打量着爱丽丝时，恼怒得脸都涨红了。爱丽丝确信她发现自己没穿束胸衣和长筒袜，这让爱丽丝禁不住想吐出舌头做个鬼脸再来个侧手翻。她这样做只想确认阿斯科特夫人会像平时一样，摆出一副愤慨的神情。

“终于来了！我们还以为你们不会来了。爱丽丝，哈米什还等着和你跳舞呢！”阿斯科特夫人惊呼道，然后用力地拍了拍爱丽丝。“快去吧！”

爱丽丝顺从地被阿斯科特夫人推了出去，边走边寻找着那熟悉又无聊的哈米什。非常不幸的是，十年了，哈米什几乎是一点儿也没变。

在她身后，阿斯科特夫人转过身来，压低声音对海伦说：“你知道已经过了4点吗！”“现在看来我们只得仓促了事了！”她责备道。

“真是抱歉！”海伦说。她觉得自己还是识趣点，最好不要向他们解释如何劝说爱丽丝做好准备来参加舞会的长篇故事。

“噢，算了吧！”阿斯科特夫人仓促说完便匆匆离去，她敏锐的双眼盯着一个放着下午茶、三明治的摇摇欲坠的托盘。

阿斯科特勋爵向海伦·金斯利点头致歉，然后用低沉的男中音对她说：“请原谅我的妻子，她为这事儿操心了二十年。”

海伦对阿斯科特勋爵笑了笑，她早已习惯阿斯科特夫人这副样子。“要是查理也在这儿该多好。”她悲伤地说。

阿斯科特勋爵微微欠身，接着一脸严肃地说道：“请节哀顺变，夫人。我时常会想起您的丈夫，他真的是位很有远见的人。我希望您不会觉得我是乘人之危。”

“当然不会，”海伦摇摇头说，“我很高兴你买下了他的公司。”

其实她想说的还有很多——她有多么想念查尔斯，自己常常会想起他，想起他除了智慧之外还有很多优点——然而用这样的方式来倾诉自己的内心并不合适，所以她尽量让自己的回答简短而礼貌。

这位高高的贵族露出一丝微笑，说：“当初没有抓住机会入股他那疯狂的投资，我真是个笨蛋！”

听到这番话，海伦的笑容倒是挺真切的。“查尔斯也这么想。”她戏谑地说道。

在花园的另一个地方，爱丽丝被拉进舞池同阿斯科特的儿子哈米什一起跳队列舞。他们朝彼此欠身行了个礼，然后向前迈出一步和对方交换位置，又向舞池中的其他年轻人行了个礼，直到爱丽丝觉得自己无聊得都快叫出来了。

“哈米什，”爱丽丝轻声问道，“你难道不觉得方阵舞很无聊吗？”

哈米什和他的父母一样有修养，着装得体，整个人散发出一种贵族的傲慢和优越感。哈米什牵着爱丽丝的手，爱丽丝觉得他的手松软无力、黏糊糊的。他丝毫不把爱丽丝放在眼里，像是没听懂这个问题。

哈米什回答：“恰恰相反，我觉得它乐趣无穷。”他趾高气扬又得意扬扬的样子像极了肯辛顿荷兰公园里的孔雀。爱丽丝忍不住笑了起来。在他们跳舞时，爱丽丝金色的长发在她身后飘舞。

哈米什皱着眉头问：“我很好笑吗？”

“没有，”爱丽丝说着，俏皮地眨了眨眼睛，“我只是忽然想象所有女人都穿着裤子，所有男人都穿着裙子的情景。”

哈米什甚至笑都没笑一下，严肃地说：“你最好自己想想就算了。疑惑的时候，沉默是金！”

除了父亲，爱丽丝从小到大听到所有人都给她这样的忠告。父亲去世了，她觉得这世界上似乎再也找不到能理解自己的人了。笑容渐渐从她脸上消失，他们还在继续跳舞，然而爱丽丝却无法集中注意力跟上音乐的节拍。她的目光飘向天空，头顶上一群鹅从空中飞过。

心不在焉的爱丽丝撞上了他们前面的一对舞伴，他们带着愤慨的表情转过身去。

“抱歉！”还没等爱丽丝开口道歉，哈米什抢先殷勤地说道，“金斯利小姐今天有点心不在焉。”他皱起眉头拉着爱丽丝离开了舞池。爱丽丝又抬起头看看天空，但鹅已经飞走了。

“你究竟在想些什么？”哈米什厉声斥责道。

“我在想，如果人能飞起来会是什么感觉。”爱丽丝迷迷糊糊地说。父亲过去常常将她举过头顶，带着她不停地转圈，整个房间都充满她欢快的尖叫声。她想人飞起来大概就是这种感觉吧。

“你为什么总是花时间去想那些不可能的事情？”哈米什问。

爱丽丝笑了起来，她的笑声犹如阳光下清脆的银铃声。“为什么不能想？”她回答，“我父亲说，他会在吃早餐前相信六件不可能的事情。”

想起父亲的这些趣事，近二十岁的爱丽丝又一次大笑起来，她丝毫没有察觉到哈米什脸上痛苦的表情。哈米什多么希望爱丽丝能像其他维多利亚时代的女孩一样：安静、拘谨、墨守成规，而不会谈论关于早餐以及不可能的事情的奇怪言论。他向四周扫了一眼，看见母亲在附近的茶几旁徘徊。阿斯科特夫人不耐烦地挥挥手，瞪着眼睛示意他“快点”。

咳咳！哈米什清了清嗓，转过身不屑一顾地看着爱丽丝。“爱丽丝，十分钟后准时在凉亭见。”他说。

爱丽丝一脸疑惑地看着哈米什远去的背影。她不太喜欢受人差遣。准时十分钟？没有怀表或其他计时工具，她怎么能准时到达？一个真正的绅士应该将自己的怀表给她，否则他就不该在她迟到的时候不耐烦地盯着怀表看个不停。

爱丽丝被自己一连串任性的想法逗乐了，她走向摆着点心的桌子，却发现穿着俗气的粉色裙子和绿色裙子、咯咯傻笑的姐妹俩挡住了她的去路。查塔韦姐妹是出了名的长舌妇，看她们的表情就知道，她们不过是又要透露点不该透露的消息罢了。

“我们有个秘密要告诉你。”费丝急切地说。

“如果你们要告诉我，那还叫什么秘密。”爱丽丝说道，她自己一点也不喜欢听那些流言蜚语。

菲奥娜扯了一下费丝的胳膊，说：“也许我们不该告诉她。”

“我们决定应该告诉她！”费丝嚷着，感觉像是遭到了背叛一般。

“如果我们告诉她，她就不会感到惊喜了。”菲奥娜评价道。这倒激起了爱丽丝的好奇心。这个秘密跟她有关？那可能她就想知道了。比起惊喜，她倒宁愿听流言蜚语。

费丝看向爱丽丝。

“你会感到惊喜吗？”费丝问道，很显然她希望爱丽丝回答“会”。

爱丽丝回答：“如果你们告诉我就不会了。但既然现在你们吊了我的胃口，那就一定得说。”

“不，我们就不说！” 费丝挺直身子气鼓鼓地说。

“实际上，我们也不打算说！”看上去同样愤怒的菲奥娜附和道。

爱丽丝叹了口气。为什么查塔韦姐妹偏偏总是在这种时候让人如此恼火呢？幸好，她还有一个锦囊妙计。爱丽丝两臂交叉在胸前，说：“我在想你们的母亲是否知道你们俩在哈维什的池塘里裸泳的事。”

姐妹俩同时惊讶地倒吸了一口凉气。

“你不会告诉她的！”费丝大叫道。

爱丽丝说：“噢，不，我会的。你们的母亲就在那儿。”爱丽丝朝查塔韦夫人走去，她正同一群人在赏花。菲奥娜慌乱地抓住爱丽丝的胳膊肘。

“哈米什要向你求婚啦！”菲奥娜脱口而出。

爱丽丝顿时愣住了。她看着菲奥娜和费丝，惊讶得说不出话。两姐妹面露喜色，笑得正欢。然而当一双手搭在她们肩头时，她们的笑容僵住了。爱丽丝的姐姐玛格丽特一脸不悦地站在她们身后。

“你们把惊喜全毁了！”她大声斥责她们。玛格丽特用力一推，把她们打发到河边，然后把爱丽丝拉到一边。“我恨不得掐死她们！”她低声说道，伸手挽着爱丽丝的胳膊。“所有人都在努力守住这个秘密。”

爱丽丝茫然地扫视着周围其他参加派对的人。现在她察觉到人们总是有意无意地看着她，然后又迅速移开视线；注意到只要她从她们身边经过，她们就会立马停止窃窃私语；还发现许多妇人脸上挂着半遮半掩、欢欣的笑容，以及男士们心照不宣的表情。此时，她心里感到一阵恐慌。

“大家都知道了？”她问。

玛格丽特欢快地说：“大家都是为此而来的。这是你们的订婚派对！哈米什会在凉亭下向你求婚。”玛格丽特一脸兴奋，似乎想不出还有什么能让她更开心的事情了。“当你说出我愿意——”

爱丽丝打断了她，说：“可我还没想好要不要嫁给他。”

玛格丽特怀疑地看着她，说：“那你想嫁给谁？没有比嫁给贵族更好的归宿了。”她们俩都上下打量着哈米什。他正站在派对边缘喃喃自语，爱丽丝知道他是在练习求婚。正在此时，哈米什用力地擤了一把鼻涕，然后研究了一下手帕上的污秽物，接着把它叠好放回口袋。爱丽丝恶心得直发抖。

“你就快二十岁了，爱丽丝。”玛格丽特一本正经地说，她轻轻拍了拍爱丽丝苍白的脸颊。“这张漂亮的脸不可能永葆青春，你总不想落得和伊莫金姑妈同样下场吧。”说完便朝年过中旬的伊莫金姑妈点了点头，她正往嘴里塞着美味的小蛋糕。伊莫金姑妈的脸颊上抹了一层厚厚的胭脂，身上那件泛黄的白色连衣裙的款式和她的年龄极不相称。

玛格丽特让爱丽丝转过身看着自己，说：“你也不想成为母亲的负担，对吧？”

爱丽丝垂下头轻声说：“不想。”

“所以你应该嫁给哈米什，”玛格丽特满意地说道，“你们会像我和洛厄尔一样幸福的，你的人生也会因此而完美。事情已经定下来了。”爱丽丝觉得自己快要窒息了。所有人的目光都注视着她，大家知道她别无选择，让她压力很大。如果父亲还活着，这一切还会发生吗？当然，他绝不会让爱丽丝嫁给哈米什……但是父亲去世了，爱丽丝对此无能为力。她只能嫁给哈米什。

事情早就定下来了。

她陷入了困境。