(insects chirping)
(loon wailing)
(dramatic music)
(peaceful music)
(cheerful music)
- Only providence knows why I take these things on, Marilla.
Mind you, things would be in a sorry state if I didn't.
I do find pleasure in the Avonlea sewing circle.
Idle hands are not my cup of tea.
- Nor is an idle tongue.
- I only hope we can finish filling a box
for the rummage sale.
That Reverend Leonard has been worrying me
about it for days.
He should stick to preaching and leave the real work
to those of us who know how to do it, that's what.
- Rachel, I can't believe that sewing
creates the kind of appetite that warrants five pies.
- I have seen several ladies of the sewing circle
polish off half a pie at one sitting.
Janet King in particular.
He daughter Felicity's going to be just like her, too.
She's a pretty thing now, but dimples
turn to fat over the years, that's what.
Besides, the pies aren't all for the sewing circle.
I've invited Alexander Abraham to tea tomorrow,
so two of them are for him.
I didn't think you'd mind, Marilla.
A little male company would make a change around here.
He asked me to his place first, but it's my experience,
Marilla, that a woman is always in a stronger position
when she's the one doing the asking.
Of course, these are things beyond your understanding,
Marilla.
- I lived with a man for 50-odd years, Rachel.
- Well, dealing with a brother is in no way
the same as dealing with a man.
And of course, husbands are quite another matter again.
Poor Thomas, bless his soul.
(sighs)
Marilla, if I may be so bold as to speak my mind,
I've always wondered why you never got married,
after you quarreled and broke it up with John Blythe.
- I certainly hope that hasn't caused you
any sleepless nights, Rachel.
- You weren't a bad looking girl,
and you had a passable personality.
Why is it you never got a proposal?
- If I may b e permitted to speak my mind,
why are you suddenly so concerned?
- Well, there's no reason to get huffy, Marilla, I'm sure.
But you've missed out, that's what.
- It has never worried me for a minute that I never married.
- Well maybe so, but it must have worried you
that you never had the opportunity to be.
I might be getting mellow in my old age,
but there's something comforting
about having the attentions of a gentleman.
Just between you and me, Marilla,
I don't think it would take much
to get Alexander Abraham to come courting.
- And what would you do if he did?
- Turn him down flat, that's what.
Green Gables is my home now.
I'm forever beholden to you for that.
And you needn't worry, Marilla.
I'll be here until the day they carry me out.
- Well, Rachel, that certainly sets my mind at ease.
(cheerful music)
- Sara, hurry yourself, dear!
- [Sara] I'm coming.
- Hetty, you're not ready.
- I'm not going.
- But you always come to sewing circle.
- Well, not when Rachel Lynde is holding it.
- Oh, Hetty, you're being awfully pig-headed
about something Rachel did to you in grade seven.
- It wouldn't matter if it were yesterday.
Rachel Lynde had no business stealing the heart
of Romney Penhallow, and I'm not about to let her forget it.
Anyway, I'd rather collect for the rummage sale next week
than listen to the sewing circle's endless prattle.
I know the minute my back is turned
they fasten onto me with their chatter.
Now, Sara.
Mind your manners, don't fidget,
and speak only when spoken to.
- Yes, Aunt Hetty.
But wouldn't it be better if I stayed and helped you?
- Helping me won't improve your sewing abilities.
- But I can't sew.
I won't be able to contribute anything.
- Well, watch Felicity.
If you ask her nicely she'll help you, I'm sure.
- That would be a fate worse than death.
- Hetty, I do wish you'd come with us.
I hate making excuses for you.
- Oh, you don't have to.
Rachel will know why I'm not there, and rightly so.
- Very well.
(cheerful music)
- [Rachel] I knew there'd be trouble when Tyrone Bell
sold his place to a Yankee.
I don't know what Avonlea is coming to
with all these strange people rushing into it.
It soon won't be safe to sleep in our beds.
- I couldn't agree more about all these strangers.
- What other strangers are coming here, Mrs. Potts?
- Haven't you heard?
There's a family of Donalds, for one thing.
They belong down east, and nobody knows anything about them.
- [Rachel] And that shiftless Timothy Cotton family
are coming up from White Sands,
and they'll simply be a burden on the public.
He's the one who's consumptive.
- [Mrs. Potts] When he isn't stealing.
- [Mrs. Lawson] I heard Paul Irving is coming
from the states to live with his grandmother.
You remember his father, Rachel.
Stephen Irving?
- [Rachel] Oh, isn't he the one that jilted Lavender Lewis
over at Grafton?
- [Mrs. Lawson] I don't think he jilted her.
There was a quarrel.
I suppose there was blame on both sides.
- [Rachel] Well, anyway, he never married her,
and she's been as queer as possible ever since.
- Have you heard?
Amy Peters is back from the West.
Came last week.
And she is going to marry a Winnipeg millionaire.
You can be sure her mother lost no time
in telling it far and wide.
- Well, Amy's a nice enough girl,
but she's not in the millionaire class.
- My Sally saw her the other day, didn't you Sally?
- Her beau simply showered her in jewelry.
Her engagement ring is a huge diamond cluster.
- Probably looks like a plaster on Amy's fat paw.
(women laughing)
- Speaking of beaus, Rachel, what's all this I hear
about you and Alexander Abraham?
- There's nothing to hear.
We're friends.
Nothing more than that.
I shall always be faithful to my late husband's memory.
- Well, Marilla, if you ask me,
there's more between them than a friendship.
- What do you mean, Mrs. Potts?
- I suppose you'd miss her company if it came to anything.
Mind you, at your age, I'm sure you're used
to being on your own.
- If people could stitch as easily as they could talk,
the sewing circle would be a very productive group indeed.
- Even my imagination would have to stretch
to think of Mrs. Lynde and Mr. Abraham as beaus.
- Now Sara, mind what Hetty said,
you're here to sew not talk.
And a hem stitch is not supposed to look like that.
- I'll bet you had a lot of beaus, didn't you, Aunt Olivia?
- Oh, my, not really, just one.
- Oh yes, Edwin Clarke, wasn't it Olivia?
Hetty sent him packing.
Evidently a Clarke wasn't good enough for a King.
Hetty always did set herself above everybody else.
- That's just one of her faults.
No wonder she lost Romney Penhallow.
- Janet, you were the one with all the beaus.
- Oh.
Now, I might've had a few.
- A few?
Janet King, you threw yourself
at every available male for miles.
It's a good thing Alec King caught you,
or you might have needed up with one of the Sloane boys.
- Really, Mother?
You never told us about them.
- Mrs. Lynde is exaggerating a great deal.
I had one or two before your father, that's all.
- Did you ever have a beau, Miss Cuthbert?
- [Olivia] Sara, really.
- Sara Stanley.
Marilla's led a real sensible life.
She never had time nor temperament for beaus.
Did you Marilla?
- I had one once.
- Oh, well we all know about John Blythe, Marilla,
but of course, nothing much came of that.
And as I was just saying this morning--
- I'm not talking about John Blythe.
- Well who are you talking about, Marilla?
- Yes, who was it?
- Won't you tell us about him?
- Oh yes, Marilla, tell us, we're all interested.
- It's news to us that you ever had a romantic attachment.
- Nobody here knew anything about him.
I met him when I went to visit my Aunt Tilly
in Blakely, New Brunswick.
- Well when would that be, now?
- It was a long time ago.
- Oh, that's a likely story, Marilla.
Can't you be a little more specific?
- I can't remember the last time you were away from Avonlea.
How old were you?
- I was 28.
- Well, I remember you going on that trip,
but you certainly never said anything about having a beau.
- What was his name, Miss Cuthbert?
- Duncan.
- Duncan who?
- McTavish.
Duncan McTavish.
- Oh really?
- That's the first I've heard of it.
- What was he like?
- He was from a good family, honest, hard-working, upright.
- But was he handsome?
- Bet he was tall and dark, with a straight nose
and a strong chin, just like a hero out of a book.
Oh, I'm sure he told you that your skin was like cream
and your eyes were the color of cornflowers.
- No, Sara Stanley, he said no such thing.
- Well, why didn't you marry him?
- Yes, Marilla, tell us why you didn't.
- It was impossible, there were differences.
- What do you mean?
- He was a Methodist.
- A Methodist?
Well, no wonder you never mentioned him.
You can move heaven and Earth, but providence knows
you can't bring a Methodist and Presbyterian together.
- I tried to explain that to him, but he wouldn't accept it
as a reason, and we quarreled, so I left Blakely,
I explained to him that I had an obligation
to my aged parents and it wasn't fair to leave
my brother Matthew alone with them.
- Oh, Miss Cuthbert, how utterly devastating.
Whatever happened to him?
- He went out west, and I haven't heard
anything from him since.
I don't even know if he's alive or dead.
- Well, of all the things there ever were or will be.
It's a mystery to me how you managed
to keep this to yourself all these years, Marilla.
- Now, isn't that just like you.
- Well, it didn't seem to be important.
- Not important?
A suitor from your past?
- Sara.
- Well, this is something new in my experience.
Tea's ready, ladies, I've made my famous apple pies,
come and help yourself.
(regal music)
- Oh, take a bigger piece than that, Janet King.
It'll save you coming back for more.
- To my mind the only man other than John Blythe
who ever said boo to Marilla Cuthbert was George Mabrick.
- Really?
- Mind you, he ended up with Flora King.
- You don't say.
- She was cross-eyed and red-headed,
so it shows how dubious his taste was.
- Well, it's all before my time.
- Before mine too, my dear, but it's common knowledge.
Good day to you.
- Good day to you, Mrs. Potts.
- What's all this about Marilla Cuthbert?
- Well, I'm not one to wag my tongue,
but I must admit I've been taken by surprise.
The sewing circle was anything but dull today, Mrs. Biggins.
- You don't say.
You mean that holier-than-thou Marilla Cuthbert
has kept this to herself all these years?
- I couldn't believe it myself.
But Mrs. Lawson is not one to tell tales,
and besides, she was there, she heard it with her own ears.
I think she said Marilla jilted him at the altar.
- That Rachel Lynde, I could've boxed her ears.
Imagine saying those things about me
in front of all those people, including my own daughter.
I was mortified!
- Sounds to me like I'm a lucky man,
to have lured you away from all those admirers.
- Don't you believe a word of that idle gossip, Alec King.
- I must admit, I find the fact that you had a few beaus
before me more believable than Marilla Cuthbert's confession
of having a past.
- How did you know that?
- Heard it in town.
You know how people talk, buzzing like bees in a hive.
- I don't know what to think that score,
it certainly did come out of the blue.
It's strange, though.
I hope it's true.
- Hmm?
- Well, everyone needs a little romance in their lives.
(cheerful music)
- Sara Stanley, you should be concentrating
on your hem stitch.
- Wouldn't it be romantic if Duncan McTavish returned
and swept Marilla Cuthbert off her feet,
after so many years of pining for a lost love?
- Well that's unlikely to happen,
and anyway, he'd still be a Methodist.
- Just think, Miss Cuthbert's life changed irrevocally.
- Irrevocably.
Just because she was born a Presbyterian
and he was born a Methodist.
Sometimes I think religion's more trouble than it's worth.
- Sara Stanley, you can't mean that.
- I do mean it.
Tell me, what is the difference between
a Presbyterian and a Methodist?
- There's a great deal of difference.
Everyone knows that.
- Methodists say Amen a whole lot more
than Presbyterians do.
I've heard them, they do!
- That's still not reason enough not to marry one of them.
You'll never marry either, Sara,
if you can't sew a straight line.
No man will have you.
- Any man that would only marry me for my sewing
is not worth anything anyway, Felicity King.
You can have him.
- What are you doing, Sara?
You still don't know how to do a hem stitch.
Here, let me show you.
What is this thing, anyway?
- It's a hankerchief.
- Something like this will never sell at a rummage sale.
It looks as if it's already been used.
Your hem's not even straight.
- Give it back.
(somber music) (insects chirping)
(owl hooting)
(sighs)
- I must say, Marilla, that was a pretty astonishing
revelation you made this afternoon.
Especially considering our talk this morning.
If I didn't know you for the sensible person you are,
I'd say there was fancy in there somewheres.
- You know Rachel, everyone in Avonlea
thinks they know every little bit about everyone else.
But I'm sure there are things even about you
that no one knows.
If there is anything in your situation
with Alexander Abraham that you wish to keep to yourself,
I would feel bound to honor that,
and I would hope that you would do the same for me.
- You can be sure that I have nothing to hide, Marilla.
- Good night, Rachel.
(cheerful music)
- Just when you think you know someone.
You're never safe from surprises till you're dead.
(somber music)
(cheerful music)
- Sara.
I have to help Aunt Janet set up the tea table
for the rummage sale, Sara, so I'll be leaving now.
You come along with Olivia.
Oh, didn't you learn anything at that sewing circle, child?
No, look, this is the way you do the cross stitch.
There, and there,
you'll have to rip out all of those stitches
along that edge and start again.
(sighs)
All right, see you there, don't be late now.
And fix your hat.
Olivia, Sara will be coming along with you.
- Sara, I'll just fix my hat and pick up a few more things,
and then we'll go.
All right, ready.
Sara?
That's funny, I thought she was coming with me.
(regal music)
- Aunt Olivia, wait up.
Look what I brought, some cinnamon buns
to sell at the rummage sale.
And I made them myself.
- With my help.
- Don't they look nice.
- Do you think I can get a penny a piece for them?
- Oh, I'm sure you will.
- I'm going to charge 10 cents a piece
for my serving napkins.
- Well, you could try.
Have you seen Sara?
She was supposed to help me this morning
and she disappeared right after breakfast,
and I haven't seen hide nor hair of her since.
- Well I haven't seen her, and if her handiwork
hasn't improved any since I last saw it,
she's probably too embarrassed to show her face.
- Felicity,
try to be more charitable.
(dog barking)
(somber music)
- [Duncan] Thank you for the space outside your store,
Mr. Lawson.
- Well, good luck to you.
But my customers seem to prefer the old-fashioned remedies,
mustard plasters, they swear by them, Duncan McTavish.
- Porous plasters are revolutionary.
Believe me, I know all about easterners
and their ways, Mr. Lawson.
My family's roots are in the East.
- You don't say, whereabouts?
- New Brunswick.
But I must admit, the West has won me over.
- Well, it requires a certain breed to go out west.
- Well, being a bachelor makes it easier, Mr. Lawson.
But a good businessman like yourself would do well,
family or no family.
- Oh, sorry, Sara, I didn't see you there.
(chuckles)
(cheerful music)
(boys shouting)
- One of my sister-in-laws grew up
in Blakely, New Brunswick, and she says the only McTavish
she remembers was an old maiden lady with no family.
- I'm sure her memory must not go back that far, Mrs. Potts.
- Yes, I suppose, and she's close to my age.
Memory's a funny thing, though.
What starts as fantasy can turn to fact over the years,
don't you agree?
- Wouldn't you know that she'd be presiding
over the tea table.
I wouldn't sit down to tea with Hetty King
if it was the last cup on Earth.
- Oh Rachel, don't you think it's about time
to bury that old hatchet?
- Ha.
When I bury that hatchet,
I'll be under the ground next to it.
(regal music)
(people chattering)
- Miss Cuthbert!
Miss Cuthbert!
- For pity's sake, child, what is it?
- Miss Cuthbert, he's here!
- Pardon me?
- He's here in Avonlea!
- Who?
- He is!
- Who is he? - Who is he?
- Duncan McTavish!
He's in Avonlea!
- He's here?
- Did she say Duncan McTavish?
- He's in Avonlea?
(cheerful music)
- How do you know it's him?
- His name is right on his sign.
- What sign?
- He has a stand in front of the general store,
and his first name is Duncan.
- Where's he from?
- New Brunswick, and he's living out west now.
- What does he look like?
- He's oh-so-handsome, and he told Mr. Lawson
that he was a bachelor.
So you see, he has never forgotten you, Marilla.
- It's impossible.
It couldn't be the same Duncan McTavish.
- Well how do you know it isn't?
- Take my word for it, Rachel, it can't be.
- But it could be.
- But you have to meet with him, just to make sure.
- If it were me I'd simply die of curiosity.
- You do want to see him, don't you?
- Well, Marilla?
- Even if it was the same Duncan McTavish,
I don't see why I should meet with him.
That chapter of my life is closed
and I don't intend to open it again.
- Oh, fiddlesticks, Marilla.
There wouldn't be any harm in it.
- I've always believed in letting bygones be bygones.
Now, let's not say another word about it.
- Seems to me, Marilla, you're making
a mountain out of a molehill.
It would be the most natural thing in the world
for you to stop by and give him your regards,
even if he is a Methodist.
- Rachel, what I choose to do in this situation
is my business, not yours or anyone's in Avonlea,
and I would thank you to keep your snooping,
interfering nose out of it.
- Marilla, are you hiding something?
- Nothing but my temper, Rachel.
- It's my belief that there's more to this
than you're telling us.
Makes me wonder if you aren't leading us all
up the garden path.
- I beg your pardon.
- Well, you needn't be so indignant, Marilla.
The less fuss the better, in my opinion.
We all make mistakes, just put it behind you.
- Rachel, if you are insinuating what I think you are,
your so-called friendship means less to me
than a jar of your red currant preserves.
(scoffs)
- Well, I see I have to be very careful
when I speak around you, Marilla!
- Marilla Cuthbert won't look paler than that in her grave.
- It must be such a shock to her.
- In more ways than one.
- I thought she would be happy.
(regal music)
- Folks, you will be amazed at the power of this treatment.
It cures croup, bronchitis, and many other
congestive symptoms overnight.
It comes highly recommended by respected doctors
across Canada.
I have here a collection of their statements
for anyone interested.
I have already received favorable comments
from people who have bought my product since I've been here.
- Doesn't that beat all?
I haven't seen crowds like that since Melville Sloane
held cock fights on Friday nights.
Mind you, they're not buying.
- I don't think it's Duncan McTavish's Porous Plasters
that's attracting these people, Edward.
- Mrs. Ira Biggins, would you please step up here
and tell the folks about the wonderful result you had
from McTavish's Porous Plasters?
- My, are all the gentlemen from Blakely, New Brunswick
as strong as you, Mr. McTavish?
- I beg your pardon?
- Well that is where you're from, isn't it?
- It's my opinion that Marilla is guilty of a falsehood,
and that's the plain ugly truth.
- Fiddlesticks.
There isn't a more honest soul in Avonlea
than Marilla Cuthbert.
- Well, naturally she can't come face to face with him.
It's plain as plain can be
that he's never laid eyes on her in his life.
- Step right up, folks.
Help me pay my rent tonight.
(people chattering)
(Mr. Lawson sighs)
- Well, I don't know what to think.
But I'd certainly like to be a fly on the wall
at Green Gables.
- Ah.
Rachel, you have to eat.
Stop skulking in the hall.
- If you'd rather I took supper in my room, Marilla,
just say so, I'd prefer that to silence.
- Do what you like, Rachel.
- Well, if you ask me, Marilla, you're not yourself,
hiding away in this house.
Even the Reverend Leonard noticed your absence
from church on Sunday, and he wouldn't notice
a fly on the end of his nose.
I don't know why you bother to cook.
You barely touch your food.
Now, I'm not one to meddle--
(Marilla laughs)
- Rachel, not one to meddle, you must be dreaming.
- I don't call speaking the truth meddling.
This supposed gentleman friend of yours
is right here in Avonlea.
You can't stay away from him entirely.
Unless, of course, as everyone says,
you didn't know him in the first place.
- Rachel, I took you in when Thomas died because
you didn't want to go out west and live with your children.
Talk about taking a viper to your bosom!
- You're stubborn, Marilla.
Stubborn and proud, that's what!
(sighs)
- But if Miss Cuthbert doesn't talk to Mr. McTavish,
then there's no chance that their quarrel will be made up.
I wish there was something I could do.
- Sara, affairs of the heart need time
to unfold on their own.
Interference never helps.
- People in that situation are never in their right minds.
- My mind was completely clear about Edwin Clarke.
You should never have interfered between him and me,
you drove him away.
- Aha, so you were willing to go traipsing
all over the world with that shiftless dreamer.
Believe me, Sara, if I hadn't intervened,
she'd probably be next to your mother in the churchyard,
six feet under.
- Hetty, don't fill the child's head with nonsense.
Sara, some things have to be left to providence.
- There are times when providence
needs a little human intervention.
(somber music)
Thank you, Sara.
All right, off to bed now.
- Aunt Hetty.
- Yes.
- You know when you said those things
about human intervention?
- Yes.
- Well, if you had a friend,
not really a friend, but someone who you had met,
and you thought that they might be
slightly frightened about a situation,
and you knew that there was something that you could do
to not really help them, but to cause something to happen
that the lady, that the friend wouldn't do themselves.
Do you think it's best to do what the heart says,
or let divine providence help out instead?
- Oh Sara, providence isn't just there
to help us out of any little difficulty.
Providence helps those who help themselves.
Does that answer your question?
- Yes, Aunt Hetty, thank you.
I know exactly what to do now.
- You must always come to me with your problems, Sara.
- I will.
Thank you.
Good night.
- Hmm.
(somber music)
(rooster crows)
(birds chirping)
(rooster crows)
(dog barking)
(Duncan whistling)
(Duncan singing)
- [Sara] Excuse me, Mr. McTavish?
- My goodness, child, you gave me a scare.
Now what can I do for you so early this morning?
- Mr. McTavish, my name is Sara Stanley
and I've come to talk to you about
a most important matter of the heart.
It concerns a lady by the name of Marilla Cuthbert.
- Marilla Cuthbert?
- You can't have completely blocked her name
out of your memory.
- What on heaven's Earth are you talking about, young lady?
- Please go and see her before you leave Avonlea.
I beg you.
- And I beg you to tell me what this is all about.
- But Miss Cuthbert told me all about you.
You were her beau.
You met in Blakely, New Brunswick, many years ago.
Don't you remember?
- Young lady, I am sure I don't know
what you're talking about.
- Excuse me, I couldn't help overhearing.
Do you mean to say you're not from Blakely?
- [Duncan] No, St. John.
- Well, isn't that interesting?
That's not what Marilla Cuthbert said.
- Who is this Marilla Cuthbert?
I would like somebody to tell me what's going on!
- I'm not one to spread idle gossip, Mr. McTavish,
but I'm surprised the story hasn't already
reached your ears, the whole town's been talking about it
since the day you arrived.
- I have no idea what they would have to talk about.
I don't know a soul in this town.
But I do know that I am not going to allow
my name to be slandered once again.
The old gossips in the last one-horse town I was in
had me in cahoots with the minister's wife!
Once that untruth spread, my stand was empty.
No business.
What is wrong with you people?
Is there so little going on in your own little lives
that you have to fall on a stranger
and assassinate his character?
Now where does this Marilla Cuthbert live?
- Come back here.
Where does she live?
- I'll be glad to tell you where Marilla Cuthbert lives.
(sighs)
- [Duncan] Good.
(serene music)
(birds chirping)
(frantic knocking)
- For mercy's sake, child, what do you want?
- Oh, Miss Cuthbert, I'm sorry to disturb you,
but I must speak to you.
I've just done the most awful thing.
I didn't mean it to be, but it--
(sighs)
- Calm yourself down.
Now, you tell me what you did.
- I thought I was helping.
I went to Duncan McTavish and I told him your story,
and, and,
oh, Miss Cuthbert.
(sighs)
- If there's one thing we can be sure of in this life,
it's that if you do wrong, you'll be punished
some way, somehow, some time.
What did he say?
- Miss Cuthbert, I don't think he remembers you.
And he acted as if he'd never heard of you before
in his entire life.
What I think is worse is what Mrs. Potts is going to say.
- Mrs. Potts was there?
Oh, Lord.
Sara, I am more of an old foolish woman than you know.
- Marilla, there's a gentleman here to see you.
- What sort of gentleman?
- It's none but Duncan McTavish, that's what,
and he's mad as a hornet!
- Tell him I'll be there directly.
- Oh Miss Cuthbert, I'm so sorry.
It's all my fault.
- Little girls.
- [Duncan] Miss Cuthbert?
- Yes?
- Need I introduce myself?
- Would you mind if we stepped into the garden?
It's less stuffy there.
- I suppose so, yes.
(bird cawing)
- Now look here, Miss Cuthbert.
Apparently some tale is circulating all over Avonlea,
unbeknownst to me, and I am to get at the bottom of it.
I would like to know what on God's Earth gave you the right
to tell people that we were involved in some way?
You know what this has done to my business?
I wondered at the large crowds and no sales.
Now I see I'm just the object of curiosity
of some tongue-waggling old...
(somber music)
I feel quite foolish.
Just by looking at you I can tell
you're not the type of person to make up stories.
This is not the first time I've been the victim of gossip.
Excuse me.
I'm sorry I bothered you.
I'll leave.
- No, please.
I don't want you leaving without knowing the truth.
- Well, doesn't that just beat all?
Trust a Methodist to change his mind.
- I have a confession to make.
I did tell those stories, but at the time I wasn't aware
that a Duncan McTavish existed.
- I don't understand.
- You see, in a small place like Avonlea,
it's very difficult to have anything of your own.
Everyone knows all about everyone else,
so therefore, everyone knows that Marilla Cuthbert
has never been the object anyone's affection.
- Please, you don't have to tell me this.
- Yes, I want you to understand.
I have no idea what possessed me.
Pride, I suppose, but,
I did make you up.
I created a beau for the ladies of the sewing circle.
My favorite name has always been Duncan,
and what should my eyes light upon
but an advertisement for McTavish's Porous Plasters.
It wasn't right for me to tell such a tale,
but how would anyone suppose that there was
a real Duncan McTavish?
I've never heard of such a coincidence.
(Duncan laughing)
(both laughing)
- Well, I'm not a Methodist, so our way is clear.
It's time we made up that old quarrel, don't you think?
- Well Mr. McTavish, I'm grateful for your understanding.
- In fact, I have just thought of a wonderful way
to still the tongues of all those sewing circle buzzards.
(serene music)
- Well, Mr. McTavish, I'm superstitions enough
to believe that two wrongs don't make a right.
But,
I don't see what harm it could do.
- I'm glad you agree.
Till Sunday, then.
- Oh Marilla.
How can you ever forgive me?
I doubted your word.
I admit that.
I thought I knew everything about you there was to know.
And I was wrong.
But I'm not one that can't own up to making a mistake.
You should throw me out of the house this minute.
Duncan McTavish was your beau.
I realize that now.
- He was nothing of the sort.
I met him today for the very first time.
And Sara, now you understand why you must never lie.
Because you will always regret it.
Rachel, my dear good friend.
I'm sorry.
(mischievous music)
- My lips are sealed, Mrs. Lynde.
(people chattering)
- Rachel.
I suppose you heard of my meeting with Duncan McTavish,
and it wasn't about Porous Plasters.
- I heard, Mrs. Potts.
- I never gave credence to Marilla's story and I never will.
- Mrs. Potts, it's gossips like you
that give women a bad name.
Why don't you open your eyes and close your mouth?
- Whoa!
Allow me, Miss Cuthbert.
- Thank you, Mr. McTavish.
- Fine day, isn't it?
- One to remember.
(chuckles)
(clicks tongue)
- Well, you're never too old to tell a lie, Sara,
or keep a secret.
- There, you see, I knew it all the time.
Marilla Cuthbert's the soul of honesty.
- Oh, and it's so romantic, I could just die.
- What was that all about?
- Oh, nothing.
Just that it's so nice that Duncan McTavish
and Marilla Cuthbert got together.
See, isn't it wonderful?
- I don't know why you look so smug, Sara Stanley.
It's not as if you were responsible.
They were bound to get together, no matter what.
- Maybe.
Maybe not.
- I heard that they had a secret meeting
and Mr. McTavish proposed.
- Well, people say that Marilla turned him down
because her love for Green Gables is much stronger.
- Sara, isn't that just the most romantic thing
you ever heard?
- Don't believe everything you see, girls,
and only half of what you hear.
(serene music)
(insects chirping)
(loon wailing)
(dramatic music)