London, 1855 Alice Kingsleigh started awake.

Her heart was pounding. The room around her was dark. The only glimmers of light slipped under the door from the lamps in the hall outside.

She'd had the dream again. It was the same every time.

The tiny nine-year-old pushed back her heavy bedcovers. She shivered as her bare feet hit the cold wooden floor. Sounds echoed from downstairs— the strong, comforting voice of her father and the answering guffaws of his friends in the study.

Pale lace curtains fluttered at her window as Alice pulled open the bedroom door. She crept down the hall, a ghostly figure in her white nightgown. A floorboard creaked underneath her as she passed her mother's room.

Alice froze, waiting for a stern word to send her back to bed.

Silence. Another roar of laughter from the men downstairs. Either her mother was asleep already— or pretending to be.

As Alice hurried down the long staircase, the smooth wood of the banister felt like polished bronze under her small hands. She stopped in the doorway of the study, transfixed by the sight of her father.

Charles Kingsleigh stood before the window, lit by the glow of firelight. A circle of men sat listening to him, captured by his ardor the way Alice usually was. He spoke passionately of his new grand idea. Alice didn't understand it, but she knew if her father believed in it, it must be something wonderful.

Peering around the door, she recognized one of the faces in the crowd. It was Lord Ascot, a dour, aristocratic man with none of her father's energy or life. Lord Ascot's son, Hamish, was a pasty, stuck-up little boy with no sense of humor. Alice thought he was rather horrible, but she tried to be nice to him. She thought she might be horrible, too, if she had parents like Lord and Lady Ascot.

Instead she had her father, who understood her completely. Alice wrapped her hands around the doorknob and leaned on the solid wooden door, waiting for him to notice her.

"Charles," said Lord Ascot, "you have finally lost your senses."

"This venture is impossible," agreed another man, his mustache twitching.

Charles Kingsleigh smiled a grin that made Alice feel warm inside. How could anyone disagree with him about anything?

"For some," Alice's father said. "Gentlemen, the only way to achieve the impossible is to believe it is possible."

Alice pondered this.

"That kind of thinking could ruin you," said a man in an ill-fitting black suit, shaking his head.

"I'm willing to take that chance," Charles said passionately. "Imagine trading posts in Rangoon, Bangkok, Jakarta …"

He waved his arms, imagining the exotic faraway ports, and his gaze drifted across the room and fell on Alice. Immediately he stopped speaking and crossed the room to her. The other men turned and saw the tiny blond child standing at the door in her nightgown. Alice's father crouched beside her and put his warm hands on her trembling shoulders.

"The nightmare again?" he asked kindly.

Alice nodded, thinking of an immaterial cat and a talking hare. Charles took one of her hands in his and turned to his guests.

"I won't be long," he said.

Alice leaned on his shoulder as he carried her up the long staircase. Her mother would have been scandalized if Alice had shown up in the middle of one of her parties. She would have sent her straight back to bed on her own. But Father understood. He always understood, and he was always there for her.

Charles tucked the bedclothes around Alice again and sat down on the bed beside her.

"Tell me about it," he said, patting her hand. "I'm falling down a dark hole," Alice said, "and then I see strange creatures… " She faltered. It all sounded too peculiar to believe, but her father listened with a serious, attentive expression on his face.

"What kind of creatures?" he asked.

"Well, there's a dodo bird," said Alice, "a rabbit in a waistcoat, a smiling cat—"

"I didn't know cats could smile," her father said.

"Neither did I," said Alice, but she could see the smiling cat in her head as clear as day, as well as the smile left behind when the rest of the cat disappeared. She shivered. It was so very odd. "Oh, and there's a blue caterpillar," she said, remembering the large puffy mushroom it sat on.

"Blue caterpillar," Charles said gravely. "Hmmm."

Alice gave him a worried look. "Do you think I've gone round the bend?"

Her father felt her forehead, looking just like their family doctor when he was checking for a fever. He made the doctor's "bad news" face and said, "I'm afraid so." Alice's eyes widened, but he went on. "You're mad. Bonkers. Off your head. But I'll tell you a secret … all the best people are."

He grinned at her, and Alice couldn't help but smile back. She leaned against him with a little sigh.

"It's only a dream, Alice," he went on. "Nothing can harm you there. But if you get too frightened, you can always wake up. Like this." Suddenly he pinched her arm, not very hard, but it made her shriek with surprise. Giggling, she pinched him back, and he laughed, tousling her hair.

"Exactly," he said. "You see? Nothing to worry about. It's only a dream." He kissed her forehead and fluffed the pillows around her as he stood up.

"Thank you, Father," Alice whispered.

But as she listened to his footsteps going back down the stairs, a shivery feeling ran across her skin.

How could a dream be so very real?

伦敦，1855年，爱丽丝·金斯利从梦中醒来。

她的心怦怦直跳。房间里一片漆黑，外面大厅里的吊灯散发出的微弱光亮从门底下溜了进来。

她又做梦了，每次都是同样的梦。

爱丽丝，这个九岁的小女孩推开厚实的被褥走下床。光着的脚丫碰到冰冷的木地板时，她忍不住哆嗦了一下。楼下书房里回荡着谈笑声——父亲洪亮舒服的声音，还有朋友们随声附和的笑声。

爱丽丝拉开卧室的门，窗边素雅的蕾丝窗帘呼呼地飘了起来。她蹑手蹑脚地走向大厅，犹如一个身穿白色睡衣的幽灵。经过母亲的房间时，脚下的地板咯吱作响。

爱丽丝僵住了，等着母亲勒令她回房睡觉。

然而，什么声音也没有。这时楼下又传来一阵大笑。母亲要么已经睡着了——要么就是假装睡着了。

爱丽丝急匆匆地走下长长的楼梯，她的小手拂过光滑的木质楼梯扶手，像摸着抛过光的青铜一样。她在书房门口停了下来，呆呆地看着父亲。

查尔斯·金斯利站在窗前，暗淡的炉火照亮了他的身影。一群男人围坐在一起听查尔斯演说，跟爱丽丝往常一样，他们被查尔斯的热情深深地吸引住了。查尔斯激情澎湃地阐述着自己新颖而宏伟的想法，爱丽丝并不懂这些，但她知道如果父亲相信这件事是可行的，那它一定很棒！

爱丽丝站在门口朝里望了望，在人群中认出一个人。那人是阿斯科特勋爵，一位不苟言笑还老摆贵族架子的先生，一点儿也没有她父亲的活力与朝气。阿斯科特勋爵的儿子哈米什，是一个面色苍白、高傲自大的小男孩，一点儿幽默感也没有。爱丽丝觉得他挺讨人厌的，但她仍然努力向他示好。如果她的父母像阿斯科特勋爵夫妇一样，她觉得自己也许会跟他一样让人讨厌。

幸好，她有父亲，一位完全理解她的父亲。爱丽丝握住球形门把手，靠在结实的木门上，等待着父亲发现她。

“查尔斯，”阿斯科特勋爵说，“你已经完全丧失理智了。”

“这个投资不可行。”另一人附和道，他的八字胡微微颤动着。

查尔斯·金斯利咧着嘴，露出一个让爱丽丝内心感到温暖的笑容。怎么会有人同他产生分歧呢？

“有些事情，”查尔斯说道，“各位，实现不可能的唯一方法就是相信它是可能的。”

爱丽丝思索着父亲的话。

“那种想法会毁了你的。”一位穿着不合身的黑色西装的男士摇头说道。

“我愿意碰碰运气，”查尔斯激动地说，“想象一下我们在仰光、曼谷、雅加达的商埠吧……”

他挥舞着手臂，畅想着异国遥远的港口，他的目光飘过房间，落到了爱丽丝身上。查尔斯立即停了下来，径直走向爱丽丝。其他人转过身，看见门口站着一个身穿睡衣的金发小女孩。查尔斯在爱丽丝身边蹲下，用他温暖的双手抚摸着爱丽丝颤抖的肩膀。

“又做噩梦了？”他温柔地问道。

爱丽丝点点头，她又想起了那只无形的猫和会说话的兔子。查尔斯牵起她的手，转身面向客人。

“我马上就回来。”他说。

查尔斯抱起爱丽丝走上长长的楼梯时，她就靠在父亲的肩上。爱丽丝如果这样出现在母亲的派对上，母亲一定会气坏的，然后立马让她独自回房睡觉。但是，父亲理解她。他总能理解她，并且一直守候在她身边。

查尔斯又帮爱丽丝掖好被角，在她旁边坐了下来。

“跟我讲讲。”查尔斯轻拍着她的手说道。“我掉进一个漆黑的洞里，”爱丽丝说，“然后我看见了奇怪的动物……”她的声音颤抖着。这一切听起来太荒诞了，简直让人难以置信，但父亲依然带着专注的神情聚精会神地听着。

“是什么动物？”查尔斯问道。

“嗯，有一只渡渡鸟，”爱丽斯说道，“一只穿着马甲的兔子，还有一只会笑的猫——”

“我不知道猫居然还会笑。”她的父亲说道。

“我也不知道。”爱丽丝说，但她依然清晰地记得那只会笑的猫和它的身影消失后依然存在的那个笑容。爱丽丝颤抖着，这一切简直太奇怪了。“噢，还有一只蓝毛虫。”爱丽丝补充道，她还想起了蓝毛虫坐着的那株蓬蓬的大蘑菇。

“蓝毛虫，”查尔斯严肃地说，“嗯……”

爱丽丝焦急地看着父亲，问：“你是不是觉得我疯了？”

查尔斯摸摸她的额头，就像家庭医生检查她是否发烧一样。他装出医生那副一脸“坏消息”的表情说：“恐怕是的。”爱丽丝惊恐地瞪大了眼睛，然而查尔斯继续说道：“你疯了，神志不清，失去理智。不过我要告诉你个秘密……成功人士都这样。”

他咧着嘴朝爱丽丝笑了笑，爱丽丝禁不住也笑起来。她靠在父亲身上，轻轻地叹了口气。

“这只是个梦，爱丽丝，”查尔斯接着说，“在梦里什么都伤不了你。但如果你真的很害怕，你只要醒来就好，就像这样。”说完他突然掐了掐爱丽丝的胳膊，力道不重却让爱丽丝惊讶得尖叫起来。爱丽丝咯咯地笑着，她也掐了父亲一下。查尔斯大笑着，还一边胡乱地拨弄着她的头发。

“就像这样，”查尔斯说，“瞧见没？没什么好担心的。这只是个梦而已。”他亲了亲爱丽丝的额头，起身又把她的枕头拍松了些。

“谢谢你，父亲。”爱丽丝轻声说道。

然而，听着父亲走下楼梯的脚步声，毛骨悚然的感觉再次涌遍全身。

梦，怎么会如此真实？