ANNE: [reading from newspaper] "...and in particular the performance of Emmeline Harris, who was so convincing in the role of the young queen. The audience was so unexpectedly moved, it is our opinion that this proficient group of young actresses must establish a permanent dramatic society. The Kingsport Examiner eagerly awaits their next production." [bell rings] And on that note of praise, I hope you all perform as triumphantly in your term exam next Friday. Class dismissed. Emmeline. [hands her the newspaper]

JEN PRINGLE: I'd like to apologize for the inconvenience I caused you, Miss Shirley.

ANNE: We're all glad to see that your health has improved so quickly.

JEN PRINGLE: Yes, I think the doctor was overly concerned. I... I hope I may stay in the dramatic society, if you're going to continue.

ANNE: Well, we couldn't do without you.

JEN PRINGLE: Thank you, Miss Shirley. Oh, my mother wants to know if you'd like to help on the annual hospital bizarre, if you have the time.

ANNE: Tell your mother I'd be flattered.

MISS STACEY: Good afternoon, girls. Anne!

ANNE: Hello.

MISS STACEY: The board was totally enthralled. Better than that, they were absolutely floored when they received Capt. Harris' check. They want to renew your contract for five years.

ANNE: Five years? I'm not sure I can last that long.

MISS STACEY: Well, I think that you ought to write a book about it. Oh, Miss Brooke, isn't it wonderful?

BROOKE: Authors are such kittle kattle. I wouldn't trust your description of any of us. Here. These came for you.

ANNE: Thank you. [opens box of roses] Oh! [reads card] "Thank you, again. I would like to return the favor. I'd be pleased to have you escort my family for a short visit to Boston when I return in a month."

MISS STACEY: Well.

ANNE: "Sincerely, Morgan Harris." [Anne and Miss Stacey giggle]

MRS. HARRIS: Pauline Harris, you don't know if you're coming or going, girl. Move that hat box. Not up there, girl, you'll brain me. It's not safe up there, either. Put it back, girl. Put it back. Lower the blind. It needs to be just about one inch lower. [Pauline tries to fix the blind, but it rolls all the way up] Oh, Pauline. Pauline, now you've done it. Oh, all that light makes my headache worse.

PAULINE HARRIS: Sorry, Mama.

ANNE: Oh, you've got your color back, Mrs. Harris. You must be feeling better.

MRS. HARRIS: I am completely worn out with all the worry, and the motion sickness; my stomach is dropping out, thank you. Why I ever listened to you and came on this trip in the first place--

ANNE: Now, now, we're almost there. Perhaps you'd like some lunch, Pauline.

MRS. HARRIS: We are not hungry. Can they make a decent cup of tea on this contraption? I'd rather drink mud than the tea that some people make.

ANNE: Yes, Mrs. Harris. I'll see what I can procure.

MRS. HARRIS: And see that they wash the cup out properly. I don't mean to be of trouble to anyone, but from the way I'm feeling, I don't think I shall be here much longer. Then perhaps you'll all appreciate me.

[leaving that room, Anne and Emmeline laugh]

EMMELINE: Poor Aunt Pauline. Oh, well, grandmama will sleep for days once we get there. I can hardly wait to see papa's new house. I've only ever heard of how wonderful it is.

ANNE: I have a feeling we're all here on approval.

EMMELINE: Papa thinks very highly of you, Miss Shirley. He said so.

MORGAN HARRIS: Hello. How is mother?

ANNE: She allowed us to order her a cup of tea. However, she is throwing out complaints at the speed of this train.

EMMELINE: If we like your new house in Boston, papa, can Miss Shirley and I stay with you?

MORGAN HARRIS: Hmm, I don't know if Boston is large enough for two sophisticated ladies.

ANNE: Going from Avonlea to Kingsport was an adventure, Captain. I assure you this will be an epoch in my life.

MORGAN HARRIS: Oh, I am sure you and Boston will make quiet and impression on each other.

ANNE: If I can remember not to look as backward as I feel. [he laughs]

MRS. HARRIS: All this moving about. All this rushing. Nobody cares what I suffer.

MORGAN HARRIS: Mother.

MRS. HARRIS: So this is what you have been wasting all my money on, Morgan Harris?

MORGAN HARRIS: And I didn't invite you all the way to Boston to carry on like this.

MRS. HARRIS: It isn't fair, Morgan. It simply isn't fair. The child has got to come back and live with you. I can't afford the expenses. And I simply can't stand the plight. And Pauline has quite enough to do--

PAULINE HARRIS: Oh, I don't mind, mama.

MRS. HARRIS: Please don't contradict me.

MORGAN HARRIS: Don't be so demanding. She's back in school. Besides, I thought you enjoyed having her with you.

MRS. HARRIS: I'm 79 years of age, my boy, and I can't be bothered with the child. You've got this enormous house. It all comes out of your father's estate, doesn't it? I have every right to be demanding. Why don't you get married again?

MORGAN HARRIS: I haven't the temperament for it.

MRS. HARRIS: I suppose no one would take you.

MORGAN HARRIS: Mind your own business, mother.

MRS. HARRIS: Of course, I realize my opinions don't matter any longer. I might just as well be dead. Then you can have the rest of the money.

PAULINE HARRIS: Please, don't say that, mama.

MRS. HARRIS: I will say it! You're two ungrateful children. How many times have I sat up at night, nursing you, when you were little? Sometimes I thought you'd never live to see the dawn. A mother's sacrifices are soon forgotten.

PAULINE HARRIS: Mama, please come to bed. It's just the strain of being in un--

MRS. HARRIS: Saints above, Pauline! Will you keep out of this? Now, you listen to me, Morgan. I am not going to bed until you give me a decisive answer. Face up to your responsibilities and behave like a man.

MORGAN HARRIS: All right. I shall look into making the arrangements as soon as I can.

MRS. HARRIS: Well, that's better. Good night.

PAULINE HARRIS: Good night, Morgan.

MRS. HARRIS: You can't rely on that boy staying in the same mind for two minutes together. He'll toss that child back in my lap, as sure as sure can be. [to Anne] And what do you think of my son's lack of responsibility? [no answer] I quite agree. Good night, Miss Shirley.

[Morgan starts to rise when Anne enters]

ANNE: Please, don't get up. I just wanted to say what a lovely evening this has been, and to thank you for giving me such a wonderful opportunity.

MORGAN HARRIS: I apologize for mother's behavior. In her condition, sarcasm is her one relief. Pringle nature, I suppose. I'm surprised you've put up with all this Kingsport nonsense as well as you have.

ANNE: Well, it has been a challenge, as well as a very good experience. Oh, I desperately miss my Green Gables, though. Watching the home lights flicker across the pond at night. Marilla waiting for me on the veranda. It probably sounds very foolish to you.

MORGAN HARRIS: You can't escape your wholesome island upbringing.

ANNE: It must feel very empty living in this vast house all alone.

MORGAN HARRIS: Well, it's an investment, really. I'm away so frequently.

ANNE: What is it that keeps you away from Kingsport?

MORGAN HARRIS: Keeping occupied with the all-consuming problems of my business.

ANNE: Running away?

MORGAN HARRIS: No. Perhaps holding out for a reason to return.

ANNE: Well, I hope you found one. I'm very grateful to you for all your hospitality.

MORGAN HARRIS: Well, I'm very grateful to you... for the pleasure of such high spirits. Good night.

ANNE: Good night, Morgan Harris.

MORGAN HARRIS: Anne Shirley. I hope we shall see you often when I return to Kingsport.

EMMELINE: Do you think this makes me look older, papa?

MORGAN HARRIS: Oh, yes, Emmeline.

ANNE: We can't make up our minds which of these hats looks more sophisticated.

MORGAN HARRIS: Neither can I. We'll take all of them.

EMMELINE: Papa!

MORGAN HARRIS: You can manage that.

MORGAN HARRIS: Here she is, great lady of the West Indies.

ANNE: She's magnificent.

EMMELINE: What does "mistral" mean, papa?

MORGAN HARRIS: It means a rough, cold wind.

ANNE: Oh, no, Captain. It should be christened after a delicious, perfumed wind, like a zephyr.

MORGAN HARRIS: Then I shall name the next one The Zephyr in your honor.

MARILLA: [reading letter from Anne] "...And the excursion to Boston all seems like a dream, somehow. Emmeline, who has had such a forsaken life up till now, has blossomed, and I feel Capt. Harris now recognizes the treasure he didn't know he possessed. I am a little weary of living out of a trunk, though, and I long to feel the summer loveliness of home. I miss you both so very much. With all my heart, Anne."

RACHEL: She's plain worn out, if you ask me, Marilla. I'm not surprised. The way girls roam the Earth now is something terrible. It reminds me of Satan in the book of Job: going to and fro, and walking up and down. I don't think the Lord ever intended it.

MARILLA: What is to be, will be, Rachel.

RACHEL: And what isn't to be, sometimes happens. Riches are all very well, Marilla, but if Anne prefers the handsome unknown to Avonlea, well, there's nothing more to be said. It's in the hands of Providence.

ANNE: [reading letter from Morgan] "I enjoyed your company in Boston. I hope the term is continuing well in Kingsport and Emmeline is caught up now in her studies. Thank you again. Sincerely, Morgan Harris."

GILBERT: Anne Shirley? What in heck are you doing here?

ANNE: Gil? You're the very last person I'd ever expected to meet out here on a day like this.

[thunder; it starts to rain]

GILBERT: Uh, um... come on. [they run to a gazebo] The Royal Academy of Physicians is convening here this weekend and I'm here as a delegate.

ANNE: You must be proud of yourself.

GILBERT: Not as proud as I was of you when I read that clipping Miss Stacey sent me about the success of your play.

ANNE: That's sweet of you, Gil. It's so good to see you.

GILBERT: Oh, I was actually hoping we'd run into each other. I wasn't sure whether you'd be happy to see me or not, so I--

ANNE: Happy? I can't begin to express my happiness. Let me look at you.

GILBERT: Ah, yes, do I look like a young medical student now?

ANNE: Not a bit; you can't fool me. You're still the same incorrigible Gil. Tell me all the Avonlea news. Have you been back?

GILBERT: Uh, no. I've been spending most of my time with the Stuarts in Halifax. Dr. Stuart's a very prominent surgeon. It's he who arranged for me to attend as his delegate. You see, Christine and I are engaged. It's set for next summer.

ANNE: I'm so happy for you, Gil.

GILBERT: I guess that's why I wanted to see you so much--to apologize for being such a fool last summer. [Anne shakes her head] No, I think I understand now what you meant. I meant what I said, too. I won't ever forget you. [he puts his hand on her cheek and she gets up]

ANNE: You turned out as I always imagined you would. Doesn't it seem like yesterday we off to Queens and vying for those scholarships?

GILBERT: I suppose you've kept up your writing.

ANNE: Not really. I've been busy, and, well, publishers aren't interested in those kinds of stories.

GILBERT: Well, I wouldn't give up all together. You know, I always thought you should write about the Avonlea. Change the name, of course, or Rachel Lynde would think she was the heroine.

ANNE: [laughs] Avonlea is the dearest place in the world. But I don't think it's an interesting enough setting for a story.

GILBERT: Oh, I intend to take Christine back to the Island with me and set up my practice there. Dr. Stuart has a lot of pull in Halifax and would like us to live there, but I don't want any hand-outs. Besides, any other place just wouldn't seem like home to me.

ANNE: No, of course. The board of governors at the College just offered me a five-year contract.

GILBERT: Well, that's wonderful. You certainly won your way into the hearts of this affluent, old town. You won't be lonely.

ANNE: I'll survive.

GILBERT: Well, I ought to go. The train leaves at 5:30.

ANNE: Oh, no, really?

GILBERT: Oh, I, was going to mail this, but a note just isn't the same.

ANNE: Thanks, Gil. [she starts to open it, but he hugs her before she can]

GILBERT: Good-bye, Anne.

ANNE: Good-bye, Gil.

GILBERT: Don't forget me. [he leaves and she reads the note: "Congratulations on your success, Carrots. From your old chum, Gilbert"]

CONDUCTOR: All aboard!

ANNE: Gil! Gil! [he goes out on the train ledge] Thank you! Good-bye!

GILBERT: Good-bye, Anne!

MRS. TOM PRINGLE: Miss Shirley, would you help us arrange all these garlands and buntings? This is a hopeless mess.

ANNE: What's the matter, Mrs. Pringle?

MRS. TOM PRINGLE: Not one of these nitwits has as much artistic ability as you have in your baby finger. Ladies, I am putting Miss Shirley in charge here.

ANNE: Let me see. I suggest you gather it up in rosettes like this, and then we'll hang them with the festoons afterward.

LADY 1: We were all so impressed with your production at the college, Miss Shirley.

ANNE: Thank you.

LADY 2: And to think how you've transformed Morgan Harris' little girl. He's hardly had anything to do with the poor child since she was born.

LADY 1: Such a tragedy when his Adelaide died. She was a rare beauty. Old Mrs. Harris and Mother Pringle are first cousins and I know how the Harrises have cut themselves off from everybody.

LADY 2: It was Morgan's fault that she ran away and left him. Terrible reputation with the ladies. They say Adelaide really died of a broken heart.

LADY 1: I'm sure he's felt so guilty all these years, that he can't stand the sight of the child.

LADY 3: More than likely, it's the old lady he can't stand. [ladies laugh] Well, I know for a fact that he has been seeing Elvira Evans, standard oil fortune from Boston. She has been staying for last two weeks at Maplehurst, or so my sister-in-law tells me.

LADY 2: You've gotten to know cousin Morgan, haven't you, Miss Shirley?

ANNE: Yes, we've met on several outings. He's very charming.

MORGAN HARRIS: [outside window, in carriage] We're going to give Miss Evans a tour of the old town, this afternoon, Emmeline.

ANNE: [reading letter] "Dear Miss Shirley, Please accept our congratulations on your book entitled Avonlea Vignettes. Enclosed is our check for $250 as advanced against our royalties."

MORGAN HARRIS: Anne! Anne!

ANNE: Oh, hello.

MORGAN HARRIS: Anne, I was hoping to run into you. We've missed having you back at Maplehurst.

ANNE: I can imagine it must be very difficult for you to get away from your important guest.

MORGAN HARRIS: Yes, yes it is. But please let--

ANNE: Don't apologize. I do understand. Good day, sir.

MORGAN HARRIS: May I offer you a ride back to the College?

ANNE: No, thank you.

MORGAN HARRIS: What's nagging you, Miss Shirley? You're behaving rather like a spinsterly old schoolmarm, don't you think?

ANNE: Perhaps that is because I am one.

MORGAN HARRIS: I say that with admiration, meant as a compliment. I'm a great proponent of independent thinking. Moreover, I've always held that early marriage is a sure indication of second-rate goods that had to be sold in a hurry. Wouldn't you agree?

ANNE: Well, you can be sure I am of the first-rate kind, Morgan Harris. And I certainly have far greater ambition than marriage, oh, if that is what you're insinuating is "nagging" me. I'm about to have a short work of fiction published. I'm afraid it has me completely preoccupied.

MORGAN HARRIS: Well, then, let me offer my congratulations.

ANNE: Good day.

MORGAN HARRIS: Anne. Anne, I am sorry. I ought not to have made such a back-handed invitation. I've been meaning to ask mother to invite you back to Maplehurst.

ANNE: How gracious of you. But my schedule is so jam-packed, I'm sure I won't be able to squeeze it in.

MORGAN HARRIS: I take it you'll attend the Hospital Benefit tomorrow evening.

ANNE: Yes, I'm working as a volunteer.

MORGAN HARRIS: I shall look forward to seeing you there. Would you do me the honor, Miss Shirley, of reserving me a waltz on your card?

ANNE: Of course. I'd be please to, Morgan Harris...

MORGAN HARRIS: Thank you.

ANNE: If I have a waltz space for you.

ANNE: Well, what do you think?

ESSIE: Oh, you look like a Gibson Magazine cover. Perhaps some romantic artist will fall for you and ask to paint your picture.

GIRL: Oh, Miss Shirley, I'm going to wear my hair just like that when I turn 18.

ANNE: You darlings. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery. Would you run along and see if my cab is here? Thank you.

BROOKE: My, my. Going to London to visit the Queen, are we?

ANNE: Are you not capable of saying anything pleasant?

BROOKE: No, I haven't your talent for pretending things.

ANNE: You take my breath away with your compliment.

BROOKE: You always have some secret delight, don't you? Don't deceive yourself. You'll never be one of them, despite your flaunting your string of pearls and making a spectacle of yourself. [Anne walks past her] Morgan Harris is a man of status and achievement, and you, my dear, are nothing better than a teacher.

ANNE: I don't know what you mean. But I honestly feel sorry for you, Katherine. You shut out every spark of happiness around you. I will not be poisoned by your bitterness.