Anne Shirley (2025) s01e18 Episode Script
Episode 18
1
To borrow Philippa's phrase,
the second term at Redmond
actually whizzed away
in no time at all.
I have turned nineteen,
and I am studying furiously
for a tricky exam.
My boardinghouse is generally pleasant,
but on days when I come home late
I sometimes fear that the many cushions
the landladies make will
be the death of me.
I've been getting on fine
with Gilbert as well.
What do you think of your chances?
I'm determined to win it come what may.
With the Thornburn Scholarship,
I could come back to Redmond next year
without trenching on Marilla's savings.
Then I had better get to work myself.
Yes, you should!
That Gilbert never leaves Anne alone.
I'm green with envy.
It does make it hard to
talk to her at school.
I hear that Anne lives in a
boardinghouse on Old St. John's.
Well, I have a Lambs get-together to go to.
Of course. Enjoy your women's clothing.
Not that kind of get-together.
Nobody could be so satisfactory
a friend as Gilbert.
He has evidently dropped all his
nonsensical ideas about me.
Gilbert!
Coming!
After all, I have
In truth, I am but a humble student.
But I'll keep striving, dreaming
of what may be someday.
Chapter 18
I Feel as if I Had Opened a Book
and Found Roses of Yesterday,
Sweet and Beloved, Between Its Leaves
I staunchly oppose the tuition increase!
So do I! It's unconscionable!
We should call an emergency meeting.
We'll show them that the whole
student body stands against it.
Let's start planning now.
I have other plans today.
Don't be like that.
Surely you can spare a few moments?
Look. The weather is fine.
Hello!
Thank you for waiting.
Huh?
Charlie?
Thank you, Charlie.
Don't mention it.
It must be awful to be
pestered so incessantly.
Well, it isn't pleasant.
I should thank you for joining me on
a walk when you have so much to do.
I was just longing for a break.
Isn't this a lovely view?
Yes.
And you're lovely, too, Anne.
Anne
Would you promise to become
Mrs. Charlie Sloane some day?
Huh?
In other words, I'd like you to marry me.
Excuse me?!
I suppose that was awfully affected
for a proposal, wasn't it?
But, Charlie, haven't we been
friends since we were children?
I cannot falsify my feelings any longer!
Anne, marry me!
No, thank you.
What? Why not?!
For any number of reasons.
What about me displeases you?!
Name it, and I'll mend my ways!
It isn't that sort of problem.
I've never thought of marrying you,
and I don't believe I ever could.
You would be a Sloane!
That's a great honor!
One I simply cannot accept!
Are you rejecting my proposal?
You, an orphan?!
Why do these things keep happening to me?
I'm leaving!
I'll tell my mama!
And my papa, too!
What on earth for?!
You're stubborn as a mule!
Anne, a letter!
Are you well?
I wonder that myself.
It's from Stella.
Stella? I haven't seen her since
our graduation from Queen's.
Neither have I, although we've been
keeping each other up to date.
I believe she's been teaching
at a backcountry school.
She said that the parents gave her
more trouble than the pupils.
Now she says that she's quit that school
and she's coming to Redmond next year!
What do you think of her idea?
I think it's a perfectly splendid one,
if we can only carry it out.
Do you suppose we can, Pris?!
I'll be better able to tell you
when I find out what it is.
Now, why can't you and Priscilla
and I club together,
rent a little house somewhere in
Kingsport, and board ourselves?
It would be cheaper than any other way.
Of course, we would have
to have a housekeeper,
but my grandmother is left alone in a great
big house, and she is horribly lonesome.
She will come to Kingsport and
keep house for us if we want her.
"Now, if you agree to it, would you see
if you can find a suitable house?!"
Yes!
The question is whether we can
find a really suitable place.
This one is too big, and the rent is high.
It's too small, although
the rent isn't much.
It would be hard to get
to Redmond from here.
Indeed it would.
This one looks haunted.
This one is just out of the question!
We shall have to give up and
wait till the fall, I suppose.
If we still find nothing then,
boardinghouses we shall have always with us.
I'm not going to worry about it just now,
anyway, and spoil this lovely afternoon.
But look over there at Kingsport.
Houses, houses everywhere,
and not one for us.
I feel as if something mysterious
were going to happen right away.
Oh! Wait for me!
This is Spofford Avenue.
We'll never find a house we can
afford in such a wealthy—
Prissy,
do you suppose it's possible that
we could rent Patty's Place?
No. Face reality, Anne.
They're sure to want more
for it than you imagine.
I won't hope. The disappointment
would be too awful to bear.
Remember, it's on Spofford Avenue!
Visitors, ma'am.
They look so alike.
Yes. It's a good omen.
We—We—saw by your sign
that this house is to let.
Oh, yes. I intended to take
that sign down today.
Then—Then we are too late.
No, but we have decided
not to let the house.
Oh, I'm so sorry!
We love this place so!
You love it?
We didn't treat the word love
so carelessly in my young day.
The girls nowadays indulge in
such exaggerated statements
that one never can tell what they do mean.
Does that mean that you really love it?
Or that you merely like the looks of it?
No,
I really do love it.
I've loved it ever since
I saw it last fall.
My college chums and I are looking for a
little place to rent instead of boarding;
and when I saw that this house
was to let I was so happy.
I love the name, too. "Patty's Place."
The name on the gate,
the way it's hung, everything.
We decided that we would
not let it after all,
because all the people who came to rent
it asked to take the name off the gate.
If you love this house, you can have it.
I believe you do love it
and will be good to it.
Oh, but there is one problem.
Can we even afford what you ask for it?
How does this sound to you?
I'm afraid we can't afford quite so much.
You see, we are only
college girls and we are poor.
What were you thinking you could afford?
About half this amount.
That will do.
Do you mean it?
Yes. It is not strictly necessary
that we should let it at all.
Thank you very much.
By the way, will you leave the china dogs?
Would you like me to?
Oh, indeed, yes. They are delightful.
Their names are Gog and Magog.
My brother Aaron brought them from London.
Your brother did?
He thought a great deal of those dogs.
It was Aaron who named this
house Patty's Place,
and Spofford Avenue was called after him.
Oh, is that how it happened?
You know a good thing when you see it.
It's all so delicious
that I know we are going to wake up
and find it a fleeting vision of the night.
Patty's Place is quite real,
and we are going to live there.
I feel like one of the morning
stars that sang for joy.
Girls—Girls—let me come, too.
Oh, I'll be so good.
I won't stir off my marrow bones till you
tell me I can live with you next winter.
Phil, we're poor.
Our housekeeping will be simple.
And our table plain.
Oh, what do I care for that?
And then there will be a good
deal of work to be done.
And you
Toil not, neither do I spin.
But I'll learn to do things.
You'll only have to show me once.
If you won't let me cast in my lot with you,
I'll die of the disappointment,
and then I'll come back and haunt you!
I'll camp on the very
doorstep of Patty's Place
and you won't be able to go out or come
in without falling over my spook!
We can't promise until
we've consulted Stella.
I don't think she'll object.
Phil is a dear
even if she is a little thoughtless.
She is that.
I believe we will all get on
beautifully in Patty's Place.
Over the summer holidays after
my first year at Redmond,
I decided to visit Bolingbroke
before going on to Avonlea.
Philippa's family and the house
where I was born are both here.
There's my old home.
Mount Holly, it's called.
It's wonderful.
I've asked my family to
find out about yours.
Thank you.
Is something the matter?
My ideals have been in perilous condition
lately. On the verge of collapse.
What if the house we're about to
visit isn't the house I know?
You remember it?
I thought you were a wee little baby.
I imagined it. All of it.
It must be a little yellow house
with honeysuckle over the windows
and lilac and lily-of-the-valley
in the garden
and muslin curtains on all the windows.
You have a genius for making
life more difficult.
Anne Shirley?
Yes.
I thought so. You're as lovely
as Phil said in her letters.
Or even lovelier.
Thank you.
Shall I guess your names, too?
You're Alec with the beautiful hair.
And you must be Alonzo,
possessor of a handsome nose.
Welcome to Bolingbroke.
We're happy to have you, Anne.
Now, where is our fair lady?
With her parents.
My!
I see you've already made friends.
Welcome home, Phil.
Welcome home.
Tell me, Anne, which of them
do you think I should marry?
Well?!
I think they are both fine fellows,
but you must decide that
for yourself, Phil.
I guess I should.
Oh, and the house is here.
Thank you. Oh, it won't be long now.
I'm glad, of course.
It will be a pleasure.
I could go with you, if you like.
Would you?
I want to see if your
ideal survives intact.
Please do come!
Even my wildest flights of fancy
seem possible when you're with me.
Then we'll have a real jamboree
tonight to set the tone!
You're gorgeous, Phil!
Oh, this is so much fun!
See?!
Anne,
may you discover beautiful
memories tomorrow,
even if
they aren't exactly
what you anticipated.
It's just around this next bend.
I don't see why you should rush yourself.
We have plenty more time.
You don't have to go today.
It's my fault.
Because I invited her to Bolingbroke,
invited her knowing she'd be disappointed.
Would you look at that!
Your ideal is alive and well.
A lilac tree by the gate.
Lily-of-the-valley in the garden.
There is no honeysuckle over the windows,
but there are muslin curtains in them.
It's all just as you imagined it!
Are you a prophetess, by any chance?
I'm sorry. I know this is sudden,
but did a family called Shirley ever live here?
It would have been a long time ago.
Yes, the Shirleys lived
here twenty years ago.
They had it rented. I remember 'em.
They both died of fever at once.
It was turrible sad. They left a baby.
Distant relatives took it,
but I guess it's dead long ago.
It was a sickly thing.
It didn't die.
I was that baby.
You don't say so!
My name is Anne Shirley.
Why, you have grown!
Will you come in? That's what
you came for, I expect.
Look all over the house, if you like.
Thank you very much.
The east room upstairs was
the one you were born in.
The furniture was all sold before we came.
All that's here now, we brought in later.
What a small room,
smaller than my room at Green Gables.
My mother took in this view.
The sunlight from this window
might have shone on her
and me when I was born.
My mother gave birth to me in this room
and died soon after.
Just to think of it—she
was younger than I am now.
Here's a bundle of old letters
I found in that closet upstairs.
See, this one's addressed
to "Miss Bertha Willis."
Willis was my mother's maiden name!
Oh, thank you!
I haven't one thing that
belonged to my mother.
I can never thank you enough.
You're quite welcome.
Laws, but your eyes is like your ma's.
And you're complected like your pa.
There never was two people more in love.
Pore creetures, they didn't live long.
But they was awful happy
while they was alive,
and I s'pose that counts for a good deal.
Maybe I should take up looking in closets.
There are a dozen letters in all.
From during their engagement.
Some are written by my father,
some by my mother.
"Bertha Shirley."
Mother sent this one after she married.
Anne is a bright baby.
She's lively, kind, and warm,
and has a thousand sweetnesses.
I love her best when she is asleep
and better still when she is awake.
Thank you, Phil.
This has been the most
beautiful day of my life.
I've found my father and mother.
And you pictured their house perfectly.
I'm sure Mrs. Thomas must have told me,
and I only thought I'd imagined it.
But I'm not an orphan any longer.
No, you're not.
I feel as if I had opened a book
and found roses of yesterday,
sweet and beloved, between its leaves.
Next Time
I'll Walk the Road to Heaven
From Here
To borrow Philippa's phrase,
the second term at Redmond
actually whizzed away
in no time at all.
I have turned nineteen,
and I am studying furiously
for a tricky exam.
My boardinghouse is generally pleasant,
but on days when I come home late
I sometimes fear that the many cushions
the landladies make will
be the death of me.
I've been getting on fine
with Gilbert as well.
What do you think of your chances?
I'm determined to win it come what may.
With the Thornburn Scholarship,
I could come back to Redmond next year
without trenching on Marilla's savings.
Then I had better get to work myself.
Yes, you should!
That Gilbert never leaves Anne alone.
I'm green with envy.
It does make it hard to
talk to her at school.
I hear that Anne lives in a
boardinghouse on Old St. John's.
Well, I have a Lambs get-together to go to.
Of course. Enjoy your women's clothing.
Not that kind of get-together.
Nobody could be so satisfactory
a friend as Gilbert.
He has evidently dropped all his
nonsensical ideas about me.
Gilbert!
Coming!
After all, I have
In truth, I am but a humble student.
But I'll keep striving, dreaming
of what may be someday.
Chapter 18
I Feel as if I Had Opened a Book
and Found Roses of Yesterday,
Sweet and Beloved, Between Its Leaves
I staunchly oppose the tuition increase!
So do I! It's unconscionable!
We should call an emergency meeting.
We'll show them that the whole
student body stands against it.
Let's start planning now.
I have other plans today.
Don't be like that.
Surely you can spare a few moments?
Look. The weather is fine.
Hello!
Thank you for waiting.
Huh?
Charlie?
Thank you, Charlie.
Don't mention it.
It must be awful to be
pestered so incessantly.
Well, it isn't pleasant.
I should thank you for joining me on
a walk when you have so much to do.
I was just longing for a break.
Isn't this a lovely view?
Yes.
And you're lovely, too, Anne.
Anne
Would you promise to become
Mrs. Charlie Sloane some day?
Huh?
In other words, I'd like you to marry me.
Excuse me?!
I suppose that was awfully affected
for a proposal, wasn't it?
But, Charlie, haven't we been
friends since we were children?
I cannot falsify my feelings any longer!
Anne, marry me!
No, thank you.
What? Why not?!
For any number of reasons.
What about me displeases you?!
Name it, and I'll mend my ways!
It isn't that sort of problem.
I've never thought of marrying you,
and I don't believe I ever could.
You would be a Sloane!
That's a great honor!
One I simply cannot accept!
Are you rejecting my proposal?
You, an orphan?!
Why do these things keep happening to me?
I'm leaving!
I'll tell my mama!
And my papa, too!
What on earth for?!
You're stubborn as a mule!
Anne, a letter!
Are you well?
I wonder that myself.
It's from Stella.
Stella? I haven't seen her since
our graduation from Queen's.
Neither have I, although we've been
keeping each other up to date.
I believe she's been teaching
at a backcountry school.
She said that the parents gave her
more trouble than the pupils.
Now she says that she's quit that school
and she's coming to Redmond next year!
What do you think of her idea?
I think it's a perfectly splendid one,
if we can only carry it out.
Do you suppose we can, Pris?!
I'll be better able to tell you
when I find out what it is.
Now, why can't you and Priscilla
and I club together,
rent a little house somewhere in
Kingsport, and board ourselves?
It would be cheaper than any other way.
Of course, we would have
to have a housekeeper,
but my grandmother is left alone in a great
big house, and she is horribly lonesome.
She will come to Kingsport and
keep house for us if we want her.
"Now, if you agree to it, would you see
if you can find a suitable house?!"
Yes!
The question is whether we can
find a really suitable place.
This one is too big, and the rent is high.
It's too small, although
the rent isn't much.
It would be hard to get
to Redmond from here.
Indeed it would.
This one looks haunted.
This one is just out of the question!
We shall have to give up and
wait till the fall, I suppose.
If we still find nothing then,
boardinghouses we shall have always with us.
I'm not going to worry about it just now,
anyway, and spoil this lovely afternoon.
But look over there at Kingsport.
Houses, houses everywhere,
and not one for us.
I feel as if something mysterious
were going to happen right away.
Oh! Wait for me!
This is Spofford Avenue.
We'll never find a house we can
afford in such a wealthy—
Prissy,
do you suppose it's possible that
we could rent Patty's Place?
No. Face reality, Anne.
They're sure to want more
for it than you imagine.
I won't hope. The disappointment
would be too awful to bear.
Remember, it's on Spofford Avenue!
Visitors, ma'am.
They look so alike.
Yes. It's a good omen.
We—We—saw by your sign
that this house is to let.
Oh, yes. I intended to take
that sign down today.
Then—Then we are too late.
No, but we have decided
not to let the house.
Oh, I'm so sorry!
We love this place so!
You love it?
We didn't treat the word love
so carelessly in my young day.
The girls nowadays indulge in
such exaggerated statements
that one never can tell what they do mean.
Does that mean that you really love it?
Or that you merely like the looks of it?
No,
I really do love it.
I've loved it ever since
I saw it last fall.
My college chums and I are looking for a
little place to rent instead of boarding;
and when I saw that this house
was to let I was so happy.
I love the name, too. "Patty's Place."
The name on the gate,
the way it's hung, everything.
We decided that we would
not let it after all,
because all the people who came to rent
it asked to take the name off the gate.
If you love this house, you can have it.
I believe you do love it
and will be good to it.
Oh, but there is one problem.
Can we even afford what you ask for it?
How does this sound to you?
I'm afraid we can't afford quite so much.
You see, we are only
college girls and we are poor.
What were you thinking you could afford?
About half this amount.
That will do.
Do you mean it?
Yes. It is not strictly necessary
that we should let it at all.
Thank you very much.
By the way, will you leave the china dogs?
Would you like me to?
Oh, indeed, yes. They are delightful.
Their names are Gog and Magog.
My brother Aaron brought them from London.
Your brother did?
He thought a great deal of those dogs.
It was Aaron who named this
house Patty's Place,
and Spofford Avenue was called after him.
Oh, is that how it happened?
You know a good thing when you see it.
It's all so delicious
that I know we are going to wake up
and find it a fleeting vision of the night.
Patty's Place is quite real,
and we are going to live there.
I feel like one of the morning
stars that sang for joy.
Girls—Girls—let me come, too.
Oh, I'll be so good.
I won't stir off my marrow bones till you
tell me I can live with you next winter.
Phil, we're poor.
Our housekeeping will be simple.
And our table plain.
Oh, what do I care for that?
And then there will be a good
deal of work to be done.
And you
Toil not, neither do I spin.
But I'll learn to do things.
You'll only have to show me once.
If you won't let me cast in my lot with you,
I'll die of the disappointment,
and then I'll come back and haunt you!
I'll camp on the very
doorstep of Patty's Place
and you won't be able to go out or come
in without falling over my spook!
We can't promise until
we've consulted Stella.
I don't think she'll object.
Phil is a dear
even if she is a little thoughtless.
She is that.
I believe we will all get on
beautifully in Patty's Place.
Over the summer holidays after
my first year at Redmond,
I decided to visit Bolingbroke
before going on to Avonlea.
Philippa's family and the house
where I was born are both here.
There's my old home.
Mount Holly, it's called.
It's wonderful.
I've asked my family to
find out about yours.
Thank you.
Is something the matter?
My ideals have been in perilous condition
lately. On the verge of collapse.
What if the house we're about to
visit isn't the house I know?
You remember it?
I thought you were a wee little baby.
I imagined it. All of it.
It must be a little yellow house
with honeysuckle over the windows
and lilac and lily-of-the-valley
in the garden
and muslin curtains on all the windows.
You have a genius for making
life more difficult.
Anne Shirley?
Yes.
I thought so. You're as lovely
as Phil said in her letters.
Or even lovelier.
Thank you.
Shall I guess your names, too?
You're Alec with the beautiful hair.
And you must be Alonzo,
possessor of a handsome nose.
Welcome to Bolingbroke.
We're happy to have you, Anne.
Now, where is our fair lady?
With her parents.
My!
I see you've already made friends.
Welcome home, Phil.
Welcome home.
Tell me, Anne, which of them
do you think I should marry?
Well?!
I think they are both fine fellows,
but you must decide that
for yourself, Phil.
I guess I should.
Oh, and the house is here.
Thank you. Oh, it won't be long now.
I'm glad, of course.
It will be a pleasure.
I could go with you, if you like.
Would you?
I want to see if your
ideal survives intact.
Please do come!
Even my wildest flights of fancy
seem possible when you're with me.
Then we'll have a real jamboree
tonight to set the tone!
You're gorgeous, Phil!
Oh, this is so much fun!
See?!
Anne,
may you discover beautiful
memories tomorrow,
even if
they aren't exactly
what you anticipated.
It's just around this next bend.
I don't see why you should rush yourself.
We have plenty more time.
You don't have to go today.
It's my fault.
Because I invited her to Bolingbroke,
invited her knowing she'd be disappointed.
Would you look at that!
Your ideal is alive and well.
A lilac tree by the gate.
Lily-of-the-valley in the garden.
There is no honeysuckle over the windows,
but there are muslin curtains in them.
It's all just as you imagined it!
Are you a prophetess, by any chance?
I'm sorry. I know this is sudden,
but did a family called Shirley ever live here?
It would have been a long time ago.
Yes, the Shirleys lived
here twenty years ago.
They had it rented. I remember 'em.
They both died of fever at once.
It was turrible sad. They left a baby.
Distant relatives took it,
but I guess it's dead long ago.
It was a sickly thing.
It didn't die.
I was that baby.
You don't say so!
My name is Anne Shirley.
Why, you have grown!
Will you come in? That's what
you came for, I expect.
Look all over the house, if you like.
Thank you very much.
The east room upstairs was
the one you were born in.
The furniture was all sold before we came.
All that's here now, we brought in later.
What a small room,
smaller than my room at Green Gables.
My mother took in this view.
The sunlight from this window
might have shone on her
and me when I was born.
My mother gave birth to me in this room
and died soon after.
Just to think of it—she
was younger than I am now.
Here's a bundle of old letters
I found in that closet upstairs.
See, this one's addressed
to "Miss Bertha Willis."
Willis was my mother's maiden name!
Oh, thank you!
I haven't one thing that
belonged to my mother.
I can never thank you enough.
You're quite welcome.
Laws, but your eyes is like your ma's.
And you're complected like your pa.
There never was two people more in love.
Pore creetures, they didn't live long.
But they was awful happy
while they was alive,
and I s'pose that counts for a good deal.
Maybe I should take up looking in closets.
There are a dozen letters in all.
From during their engagement.
Some are written by my father,
some by my mother.
"Bertha Shirley."
Mother sent this one after she married.
Anne is a bright baby.
She's lively, kind, and warm,
and has a thousand sweetnesses.
I love her best when she is asleep
and better still when she is awake.
Thank you, Phil.
This has been the most
beautiful day of my life.
I've found my father and mother.
And you pictured their house perfectly.
I'm sure Mrs. Thomas must have told me,
and I only thought I'd imagined it.
But I'm not an orphan any longer.
No, you're not.
I feel as if I had opened a book
and found roses of yesterday,
sweet and beloved, between its leaves.
Next Time
I'll Walk the Road to Heaven
From Here