Original subtitles

(crickets chirping)

(bird hooting)

(dramatic orchestral music)

(soft instrumental music)

(soft instrumental music)

(people murmuring)

- [Hetty] Good morning, Elvira.

- Hetty.

Oh, Olivia, I must say I enjoyed your poem

in the newspaper so much!

- My poem is in the newspaper?

- It is?

That's wonderful.

Wait until you see it, Aunt Hetty.

- Poem?

What poem?

- I read it out loud to Edward,

and, even though he isn't much for that sort of thing,

he said he felt right proud to be acquainted

with the person who wrote it.

- There it is.

"Season's End" by Olivia J. King.

- [Olivia] They really published it!

- "Season's End", hm, really, Olivia.

- Look, there it is, my name in print.

- It had a real nice sentiment to it.

- Oh, it was just a little something

that popped into my head.

- I'll tell you it took some convincing

to get her to submit it.

- I'm sure.

- Why?

I never imagined that it would be published.

- Oh, Mr. Dale, good morning.

Did you see Aunt Olivia's poem in the newspaper?

- Yes, I saw it.

- Did you like it?

- Sara.

- Yes, I-I certainly, d-d-d did enjoy it.

- Thank you, Jasper.

- Ah, it was a welcome change

from the usual reported comings and goings of Avonlea.

If you ask me, the paper's gone downhill

since old Mr. Tyler died.

His son just doesn't seem to have the same feel for it.

Don't you agree, Mr. Dale?

- Uh, yes...

No.

I wouldn't want to say about that.

- Well, I think that you should do more

of the same thing, Olivia.

The Avonlea Chronicle could use some new blood.

- I could use some service,

only if it's not too inconvenient.

- Here I am, prattling on.

What can I get for you, Hetty?

- A pound of sugar please and, uh...

Some of your imported English breakfast tea.

I did want some apples.

(chuckles)

It appears, there isn't one without a bruise, so.

(soft instrumental music)

(doorbell rings)

- Aunt Olivia, I think Jasper Dale sort of likes you.

- Sara Stanley.

- Well, it's written all over his face.

- All I can ever see on Jasper Dale's face is utter

and hopeless confusion.

(soft instrumental music)

(horse neighs)

- Well, did ever any mortal...?

- [Alec] What is it, Janet?

- Your Aunt Arabella is dead.

- My goodness, I'd forgotten she was alive.

- This is the key to the blue chest.

She wanted us to have it.

- Hurray!

- Oh, Felix!

Your Aunt Arabella was a blood relation.

What do you mean by such behavior?

- I wasn't hurraying because she's dead,

I hurrayed because we finally get

to open up that blue chest.

Oh, mother, can't we go home and open it right now?

- No, well, no indeed.

Hetty and Olivia will want to be there as well.

The letter says that every family connection

will get something to remember her by.

I think we ought to have a dinner, don't you, Alec?

- Hm, if you think the occasion warrants it, my dear.

- Oh, I do.

I think I'll invite everyone for tomorrow evening.

- Tomorrow evening?

That's ages away!

- Well, the chest has been locked up for 50 years,

it will stand another night locked up.

(chuckles)

(soft orchestral music)

Now carry it carefully, boys.

You don't want it to break open.

- It's really heavy.

Must be full of gold.

- Or beautiful dresses.

Mother said that Aunt Arabella's wedding dress is inside.

- It's heavier than dresses.

Felix, stop dragging your end.

- I am not.

- Maybe it's full of jewels.

- Whatever is in there is probably not fit for anything

after all these years.

I don't see what all the fuss is about.

- Well, if Aunt Arabella lived in Halifax,

why was the blue chest here?

- Well, she stayed in this very house for a whole winter

when grandmother and grandpa King were young.

Sara, wait till you hear the story of poor Arabella.

- A very tragic story it is too.

(coughs)

- Her fiancé was found dead

the very morning of their wedding.

- They say that he shot himself right through the heart.

- Oh, Felix, really!

- Dreadful!

Poor Arabella.

What did she do?

- Well, she took all her wedding things and pack them away

in this blue chest.

- Without so much as a goodbye to anyone,

she ran away to Halifax and took the key with her.

- Tragically romantic!

- It's hardly romantic, child.

Arabella suffered a blow in this world, as many of us do,

but she hadn't the strength of character to overcome it,

as simple as that.

- Please, could we open the chest now?

- [Sara] Yes, can we?

- Oh, all right, all right,

I guess I'll have no rest until I do.

What have I done with the key?

Oh! - Oh, mother, please!

- Oh, no!

Where do you think the key...?

Oh, here it is.

(laughing)

- [Felicity] Mother.

- Janet, I am the eldest,

so it's my duty to open the chest.

- Well, Hetty, it has been under our roof

for the past 50 years, but, oh, far be it for me

to interfere with your sense of moral obligation.

(soft instrumental music)

(coughing)

- Oh, my!

- [Felix] It's full of dirty old dresses.

- The moths have certainly laid their claim.

Oh, look at these holes!

- Knickers!

- Look, it's the wedding dress!

Oh, what a shame!

- The best place for that will be the fire.

Oh, really, Janet, if that chest had been under my roof,

I'd have broken the lock and aired it out, long ago.

- For your information, Hetty, Arabella wrote long ago

absolutely forbidding us to open it until after her death.

- I wonder why.

(soft dramatic music)

There must be something else.

Look.

A clock.

(clattering)

- There.

(clattering)

- A clock and a bunch of moth-eaten bloomers.

- In your family treasures.

- Now wait a minute, this is a fine clock here.

(clanking) Oops!

Well, I might be able to fix it.

(chuckling)

- Oh, Alec, the ramp that's in the barn is full

of things you couldn't fix.

- Uncle Alec, could I have it, please?

- [Alec] Yes, by all means.

- I just can't stand to see Arabella's things thrown out.

- Now, think of all the hopes

and dreams she put away in that chest.

- Oh, my, I could just see it now.

"New poem by Olivia J. King.

"Hope's End."

- Really, Hetty.

Here, Sara, let me help you with that.

- Dreams don't get you anywhere in this life, you know,

it's what you do that counts.

Am I right, Felicity?

- Maybe Jasper Dale could help me fix it.

I'll bet he would if you would ask him, Aunt Olivia.

- Sara.

I don't know where you get such notions.

- Olivia's getting some recognition, Hetty,

and I think it's wonderful.

- Oh, recognition, pish-posh.

She's accomplished nothing of note.

Oh, believe me, Janet,

Olivia gives me great cause for concern.

Mooning about, scribbling away.

Thank goodness most of us have

grandfather King's get-up-and-go.

Well, now, I think you should be pleased

she doesn't want to stray too much.

- You'd be lost without her.

- I'd be lost?

Oh, no.

She'd be lost without me, I'm afraid.

You don't know her as I do, Janet.

(lively instrumental music)

"The waves rolling upon the shore,

"like oft forgotten tears of yore."

Goodness, Olivia, what talent as a poet

you've been concealing from me.

- Oh, I would never call myself a poet, Hetty.

- Nor would I, Olivia, nor would I.

However, you're one of the few Kings to have your name

in the paper other than the birth and death notices.

At least, there is some dignity in dying.

Really, Olivia, why would you waste your time

on such frippery?

"Season's End" indeed.

Where in Heaven's name is that Sara?

- Um, she's over at Janet's.

- Oh, that girl's another one.

Playing all day with those children

when she should be studying her mathematics table.

It's a good thing I'm here

to bring the two of you down to Earth once in a while.

- Hetty,

who do you think you're talking to?

I am not a child.

- It's whom, Olivia.

Whom do you think you're talking to, not who.

- Honestly, Hetty, sometimes I think you could...

Wither buds on the vine.

- Wither buds on the vine.

My goodness, that's poetic.

(playful music)

You're not going outside in this cold weather, are you?

You better cover your head.

- Not only am I going out,

but I am not going to cover my head.

- Oh, you'll catch your death.

Olivia, what's gotten into you?

- Oh, I suppose I'm finally beginning to feel some

of that King get-up-and-go surging through my veins.

(soft instrumental music)

(lively instrumental music)

- Now that it's all over,

I believe I am quite sorry that the chest is open.

I mean, now there's nothing left for us to imagine.

- Oh, it's better to know than to imagine.

- No, it isn't.

But I've been thinking.

- Well, hallelujah.

- Why did Arabella forbid your mother to open the chest

until after she died?

I wonder what was in it

that she didn't want anybody to find.

- It was probably just her wedding dress.

She couldn't bear the thought of anyone else seeing it.

- It had to be something more important

than her wedding dress.

- Nothing's more important than your very own wedding dress,

especially when you never got to wear it.

- But, doesn't that strike you as odd?

There really wasn't anything in here that was worth finding?

Maybe there's something else in here hidden.

- Really, Sara, you're never satisfied to let a story stop

where it should stop.

- Look, it's shallower on the inside

than it is on the outside.

- Sara, what are you doing?

- See?

(cracking)

It has a false bottom!

- Maybe there are jewels!

- Or treasure!

Gold coins, we'll be rich!

(soft instrumental music)

Letters.

Felicity, something's burning.

- Oh, no!

(playful music)

Uh-oh!

(Felix laughs)

Why did I forget to watch it?

- Do you think that your mother would mind

if I took these home, Felicity?

- Of course not, take them.

Oh, my poor pie!

And it was the last of the blackberry preserves too.

(dramatic instrumental music)

- I know I have very little experience, Mr. Tyler,

but I have lots of ideas.

- Everyone's full of ideas, that's the easy part.

What I need is someone to write the social notices

and make them interesting enough

so that people will pay money to read them.

- But I'm sure there are lots of events

that I can write about.

- In my father's time as publisher,

people were content with the local paper,

but nowadays they just want

to read the big Charlottetown papers.

Nothing exciting ever happens in this district.

- Mr. Tyler, I can hardly believe that.

- I've inherited a dead horse, Miss King.

- Well, maybe if you had photographs.

Now, the one thing that the Charlottetown papers

do have is photographs.

Don't you think that would make local news

much more exciting?

- Miss King, I don't have photographs

because I cannot afford a photographer.

- Well, if the paper were more interesting

then more people would buy it,

and then you could afford a photographer.

Don't you think, Mr. Tyler?

- As simple as that, is it?

- In fact, I'm sure I could find someone

to donate their time.

Avonlea is simply full of people with many talents

who just never get a chance to use them.

- Is that right?

Well, if you think you can do it, then do it.

- You mean, I have the job?

- No.

But you find your photographer and your exciting local news

and then I'll decide whether or not to take you on.

- Thank you, Mr. Tyler.

- And while you're at it, don't forget the vitals.

- The vitals?

- The births and deaths, Miss King,

the only news you can rely on in this district.

- Mr. Tyler, I'm gonna prove you wrong.

(lively instrumental music)

- Sara Stanley, I heard you come in.

Come downstairs at once and see to your arithmetic.

Mm-hm.

Uh-huh.

- Can I go now, Aunt Hetty?

- Patience, Sara.

Well, these all do seem to be correct.

Your penmanship leaves a lot to be desired,

but yes, you are free, free to go.

- Aunt Olivia, I've been waiting for you.

You'll never guess what I found.

- Oh, Sara.

- What's wrong?

- Oh, I think I've just gone

and gotten myself into such a mess.

- What do you mean?

- I can't...

I can't think of what Hetty's going to say.

Where is she?

(clock ticking)

I applied for a job at the newspaper.

- [Sara] That's wonderful.

Well, did you get it?

- Well, not really, I'm sort of on trial.

The only reason the editor is trying me out is because

of the rash promise I made to him

that I could find a photographer.

- A photographer?

Aunt Olivia, that's easy.

You know who takes pictures.

- Oh, Sara, I can't ask Jasper to do this.

He, he, he's so shy.

He'd have to meet all sorts of people.

Oh, he'd absolutely hate it.

- I'm sure he'd love to do it.

- Sara.

- Especially since it's for you.

- Would you please stop all this nonsensical insinuation

about Jasper and me?

- He likes you, I can tell.

- Sara.

- I'll go get my coat.

(sighs)

(knocking on door)

Maybe he can't hear us.

(knocking on door)

Mr. Dale, it's Sara Stanley.

- [Olivia] Sara!

- Mr. Dale?

Mr. Dale, are you home?

- Sara.

Please, let's go.

- Good day.

Sara S-S-S-Stanley.

Oh, Miss King.

- [Olivia] Sara, let's go.

Mr. Dale is very busy with his photographs.

- [Sara] I'm sure Mr. Dale won't mind us staying

for a minute, Aunt Olivia.

- Uh...

Please, um, c-c-c-come in.

Excuse the, uh...

(clattering)

- Please don't mention it.

- No, it's usually t-t-tidier, but the,

the, the lady who um, who comes, uh...

- Yes?

- She's, um...

Ill.

- [Olivia] I see.

- Thank you.

Is there anything...

What can I do for you?

- Well, actually, Jasper, I've come to ask a favor.

But, please feel free to just tell me directly

if it's something you'd rather not do.

- Aunt Olivia has a job at the newspaper.

- Sara.

- Oh, that's good, good, good for you.

- Well, I don't really, but I might, if--

- If she can find a photographer.

- Ah.

- Well, Sara just naturally thought of you.

I know it's presumptuous of me.

And it's all my fault for saying I'll do something

when I really had no idea if I could even write the stories,

let alone find someone to take photographs.

- Well, I don't know how good my photographs would be.

I, uh...

It's just a hobby.

- They'd be much too good for that Mr. Tyler.

He really is the most aggravating man.

He made me feel like a an absolute fool.

(soft instrumental music)

- Well, I don't know what kind of photographs you'd need,

but I would be pleased to help you out

in whatever way you could, I could,

as long as you could tolerate, um...

(chuckles)

- Thank you, Jasper.

(soft instrumental music)

- I've never heard such nonsense.

Taking employment at an ad newspaper.

No proper King woman has ever done

such a thing, thank goodness.

- Hetty, no King woman was a teacher before you,

and you've made a success of it.

- That's entirely different.

I'm the eldest, it's my duty to provide for you.

- I don't want to be provided for.

I can provide for myself.

- That remains to be seen, doesn't it?

- Oh, Hetty, you really...

(soft instrumental music)

Hetty, try to understand.

You have your teaching, and Janet has her family,

and I need to do something in my own right.

You said as much yourself,

I don't see why you're protesting so much.

- I'm not protesting.

It is about time you did something, but...

- Well, then?

- Very well, go ahead then.

Any way the wind blows.

Next thing you know you'll be flitting off like...

Like Ruth.

- Oh, don't be ridiculous.

Well, I must get to bed.

I have a whole list of appointments tomorrow.

Jasper's picking me up first thing in the morning.

- Jasper?

- Jasper Dale.

Oh, he's taking photographs for me.

Well, good night, Hetty.

- Jasper.

(soft instrumental music)

(knocking on door)

- Sara.

Sara, it's time you were asleep.

- Aunt Olivia, you'll never guess what I've just found.

It was in the chest.

Arabella's diary and a whole bunch of love letters.

- [Olivia] Sara, one thing at a time.

What chest?

- The blue chest.

Under the false bottom.

- False bottom?

- This is a love letter,

that Arabella King's fiancé wrote to her.

His name was Will.

And he couldn't have killed himself like everyone says.

He loved her too much.

And the night before the wedding,

he knew his life was in danger.

Listen.

- Sara, this is private.

You shouldn't be reading them.

(soft instrumental music)

What'd it say?

- "April 28th, 1851.

"Dearest Arabella,

"I have distressing news.

"I have secured my share of the family fortune,

"but I fear my brother's ill will.

"Fate may take me from you.

"Only time will tell.

"Treasure my wedding gift.

"Your love, Will."

- Oh, Sara Listen to what Arabella wrote the very next day.

"I fear that my beloved fiancé was murdered

"by his own brother.

"I must leave the island

"as my own life may also be in danger.

"Time will reveal all

"and hides the fortune that was rightfully Will's."

- Aunt Olivia, Will was murdered right here in Avonlea.

- That's why Arabella left the island so suddenly.

- So, there still is a treasure.

I just know it!

- But where?

And Will feared for his life,

so Aunt Arabella left the island

thinking she might be in danger also.

(soft instrumental music)

Isn't that the most mysterious thing you ever heard?

- Trust Sara to uncover something like that.

Here, whoa, whoa.

Certainly is quite a tale.

- Really is quite exciting.

But, I can't help but feel sorry for poor Aunt Arabella.

I mean, no one ever understood what she had gone through.

They just thought that she was eccentric,

shutting herself away like that.

- People are too quick to judg-judg-judge.

Now, that's my experience.

- [Annie's Mother] Well, now, what kind

of a smile was that, Annie?

You should be happy, girl.

It's going to be in the newspaper.

- Congratulations, Annie.

When is the wedding to be?

- Oh, as soon as we can arrange it.

Oh, I feel sure seeing Annie's engagement picture

and announcement in the newspaper

might be just the thing to spur him on to name a date.

He's a McCloud, would you know,

and the McCloud's are something awful at putting things off.

Don't grimace, girl, smile!

(playful music)

(rumbling)

(soft dramatic music)

- Um, ladies, if you could just all group together?

Mr. Dale will to take your picture.

Perhaps if you held up that lovely quilt?

That's it.

- Mother has done 50 quilts in her lifetime.

- Well, I'm 91 years old, and I'll soon be in my grave.

- Oh, come on, mother, you'll live to make 50 more quilts!

- No, I won't, I'm not making anymore quilts.

- Hold still.

(playful music)

(rumbling)

- Zachariah here weighs in at 226 pounds.

None of the others in his category even come close.

And the Charlottetown fair is no small potatoes.

Pigs come from all over the island, you know?

- [Olivia] I'm sure they do, Mr. Frewen.

- Can you get her head up?

To look.

That's right, up, up now, up, up.

- Here pig. - Up, here pig, uh...

Sooey, sooey, sooey, sooey.

Perfect.

Perfect!

(rumbling)

(pig squeals)

- [Mr. Frewen] Darn pig!

(pig squealing)

(man mumbling)

(Olivia laughs)

- The Markdale Trust Company's got a business to run too.

And we can no longer accept

your haphazard system of payment.

And that is my final word.

Good day to you, sir.

- Good day to you too, sir.

(sighs)

So these are your exciting stories, are they, Miss King?

- Mr. Tyler, I wish you could've seen the expression

on Pat Frewen's face when that pig of his, bolted.

- [Mr. Tyler] Who took the photographs?

- Jasper Dale.

Aren't they wonderful? - Jasper Dale.

I've heard of him.

Crackbrain, they say.

- Mr. Tyle, he's a very talented photographer,

as you can see.

- Well, I can't use them.

- Why ever not?

- Miss King, the paper's already full

of little tidbits like those

and photographs aren't going to make them anymore exciting.

They simply won't sell enough papers

to pay for my printing costs.

As you obviously overheard,

that's exactly what I have to do.

Good day, Miss King.

(soft instrumental music)

(dog barking)

- [Jasper] Well, what did he say?

- [Olivia] He said it wouldn't sell newspapers.

It wasn't exciting enough.

- Oh, that's too bad.

- After all that work.

They were such wonderful pictures too, Jasper.

I feel just terrible.

I'm so sorry to have troubled you.

- Oh, no, no, no. - Terrible waste of time.

- No, no, no, no.

I had a f-f-f-f...

Fine time.

Best in years.

Uh, the story you recounted to me about your aunt...

(dog barking)

- Arabella? - Arabella.

That was terrifically exciting.

Why don't you write about that?

- Oh, I don't really know who Will was--

- I wouldn't be surprised if,

uh, well, perhaps the newspaper archives

might have some information on it.

(lively instrumental music)

(Olivia clears throat)

- Forget something, Miss King?

- Mr. Tyler, I'd like you to give me a second chance.

I didn't think to mention it before,

but my niece and I have uncovered an amazing story.

- [Mr. Tyler] Don't tell me, the town cat had kittens.

- Please, Mr. Tyler, I'm extremely serious.

- Really, I have to give you credit, Miss King,

you don't give up easily.

- I'll need access to your files, your archives.

- Fine.

Write it.

Help yourself, do what you want.

- Thank you.

Where will I find the obituaries?

Pardon me, the vitals for 1851, April 1851.

- Well, you'd have to try the cabinet in the corner.

- I know Avonlea really isn't the most exciting place

in the world, but this a tale of hidden treasure,

of hatred between brothers.

A love story that ended in murder.

And it all happened right here in Avonlea 50 years ago.

- I've changed my mind, Miss King.

Please leave.

(soft dramatic music)

- It all sounds to me...

Sounds to me as if he didn't want you to know

what was in the files.

- But why?

It's the very type of story he wanted.

I can't write unless I have more information.

Oh, I just...

- Don't you go giving up now.

- No.

It was silly of me to think that I could do it.

Hetty was right, as usual.

I can just hear what she's going to say.

- You can't listen to what everyone says.

You just have to...

You do what you do.

And I think you could do just about anything

you set your mind to, Olivia.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa.

- Thank you, Jasper.

- Stand up.

- Thank you.

- [Jasper] Not at all, it's, uh...

It's a pleasure.

(soft dramatic music)

(bird cawing)

- So, Jasper Dale's seeing you home now, is he?

- Is there anything wrong with that?

- Well, you wouldn't want any gossip, Olivia.

And Jasper Dale, I mean, of all people, huh.

- Whatever do you mean of all people?

Jasper Dale happens to be a very intelligent, pleasant man.

He is refreshing to be with.

He enjoys my company. - Oh, really, Olivia,

there's no need to get huffy.

I'm merely suggesting, perhaps it would be best to, uh...

Be a little more discriminating.

- Perhaps it would be best if you mind your business

and I'll mind mine.

- Business?

Oh, and just how is your so-called business going?

- If you don't mind, I think I'd rather not discuss it.

I don't think I could endure your gloating.

- Gloating?

I am not gloating.

Olivia?

What has gotten into you?

(bird cawing)

- Sara, we must be missing something.

Read me that part at the end of the diary again.

- "Time will reveal all

"and hides the fortune that was rightfully Will's."

- Now, didn't Will say something like that

in his last letter to her?

Here.

"Fate may take me from you, only time will tell.

"Treasure my wedding gift."

Whatever can they mean: "Time will tell?

"Time will reveal all."

(dog barks)

- It's beyond me what's going on in this house anymore.

But if it's any interest to either of you, dinner is ready.

And, Sara, if you want to save this clock from the woodshed,

then kindly leave it in your room.

I'm tired of stubbing my toe on it in the hallway.

- Sara, "Time will tell,

"Treasure my wedding gift,

"Time will reveal all

"and hides the fortune that was Will's?"

- What are you jabbering about?

- Oh, Hetty, you're wonderful!

Sara, the clock!

The treasure must be hidden in the clock!

(lively instrumental music)

- I told you two dinner's ready.

- Hetty, we'll explain everything later.

- [Hetty] You and here, where on Earth are you going?

- Over to Jasper's. - To take the clock apart.

- Not without me, you aren't.

(soft instrumental music)

(soft dramatic music)

Hm, I still don't understand.

- Hetty, Arabella King's fiancé was murdered.

- His treasure is hidden in this clock.

- I've never heard such...

Such hogwash in my life.

- Well, is there anything?

- I, uh...

I don't rightly know.

- For heaven's sakes, Jasper, there either is

or there isn't.

- Wait.

Wait.

Oh, no, no, I don't...

Wait, there is something here. - I knew it, I just knew it!

- Hm. - Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no, no.

(soft instrumental music)

(gasping)

(lively instrumental music)

- Jewels.

Real jewels!

- Each one of these must be worth 500 d-d-d-d--

- Dollars, Jasper.

- Dollars, yeah.

Must be...

Must be a dozen of them.

- William Tyler.

Sara, Will's last name was Tyler.

Just like the man at the newspaper office.

- [Man] Miss King.

(gasping)

(dramatic music)

You turned out to be quite a clever reporter.

I'm afraid I can't let you write your exciting stories.

- Explain yourself, sir.

You can show yourself out by the way you came in.

- Forgive me.

The door was open.

- That's no excuse, go on, go on!

- Jasper, this is Mr. Tyler,

from the Avonlea District Chronicle.

- I will not allow you to drag my father's name

through the mud.

What's past is past.

- Your father was Will's brother?

- That's correct.

And he also was in love with your aunt, Arabella King.

- Your father shot Will?

- He didn't shoot Will.

- Yes, he did.

He wanted Will's share of the family fortune.

It says so in his letter and in Arabella's diary.

- They got into a fight.

Will's gun went off, accidentally.

- So, you've come to claim the treasure, I suppose.

- Ah, yes, the family treasure.

The source of all the enmity.

My father lived with his guilt his whole life.

If there's one thing I remember from his misery is

that having money is not worth the price it exacts

from your soul.

I want nothing to do with blood money.

- Don't try to sell me that bill of goods, Mr. Tyler.

Oh, he didn't come here merely to protect his father's name.

No, you've allowed these people to do your dirty work

for you and now you want to reap the rewards.

Or why else would you break in here

and terrify us as you have?

Oh, I have a good mind to, uh...

Send for Constable Jeffries.

- Hetty, really!

Mr. Tyler, the treasure is still here,

and as Will's heir, it's rightfully yours.

- Olivia, have you taken leave of your senses?

That money's been under the King roof for the past 50 years.

- Miss King, I believe Olivia to be in the right.

This, uh, this belongs in the Tyler family.

- Hush up, Jasper, this is a family matter.

- Hetty, this is not just a family matter.

Jasper is more a part of this than you are.

How dare you interfere?

- I'll interfere if I see fit.

- It is none of your business.

I can handle this perfectly well by myself.

- Oh, how could you, Olivia?

You've no judgment.

- I have had just about enough of you

telling me what I have and I don't have!

So I would appreciate it that you would stop

and think for a change before uttering another bit

of your advice for my own good!

(clock ticking)

Mr. Tyler, this is yours.

Take it.

- I've told you, Oliv-- - Mr. Tyler,

your father's newspaper is in trouble.

Invest in it.

Give those Charlottetown papers a run for their money.

And you did say, even if you don't take the money,

that if I found an exciting story I could write it.

It will do no harm for the truth to be told now.

- Isn't that what newspapers are about, Mr. T-T-T--

- Tyler.

- Tyler?

The truth?

(soft instrumental music)

- Who would've thought there'd be a treasure

in that old clock.

- I'm only sorry that I couldn't fix it.

- I'm only sorry I didn't keep it.

(laughing)

Come now, Hetty, where's your sense of humor?

You're far too much like Grandmother King, you know.

Remember Grandfather King?

Now, he was the one with the get-up-and-go.

You remind me very much of him, Olivia.

(knocking)

- Excuse me.

- Poor Arabella.

Imagine hiding a secret like that all her life.

- Well, if Sara hadn't stumbled on all those old letters,

none of this would ever had happened.

(Hetty clears throat)

- Oh, Mr. Tyler, what a surprise!

Will you join us with a cup of cordial?

- No, no, I can't stay.

I just wanted to thank you.

- Thank me?

- [Mr. Tyler] And to give you this.

- Oh, Mr. Tyler, you didn't need to do that.

- [Mr. Tyler] Well, greed's gotten the Tyler family

into trouble once too often.

- [Olivia] Oh, Sara, look at it.

- Thank you very much, Mr. Tyler.

(soft dramatic music)

Aunt Olivia, it's beautiful.

- Mr. Tyler, this is extremely generous of you.

- Well, not really.

I've sold more papers in the last few days

than I have in months.

I guess it just goes to show that people

will still buy a small town newspaper

if there's some excitement in it.

- Well, I'm very pleased for you.

- But, I've realized that a paper is only

as good as its writers, and I'm thinking of hiring someone

on a more permanent basis, and I was wondering

if you would be interested, Miss King.

- Yes, I'd be very interested, Mr. Tyler...

- [Mr. Tyler] Well, The Avonlea District Chronicle

welcomes you with open arms.

- If I can bring along my talented photographer.

- Of course.

- Well, I think that calls for a toast.

- Oh, no. Alec, wait!

Hetty is the eldest.

I think as the head of the family,

she should give Olivia's toast.

- Well, I must say, I'm still slightly dazed

by the unexpected events of the past few days, but, uh...

Be that as it may...

Olivia, I am not one to withhold credit where credit is due

and I must say you do have a talent for stories.

I found this a far more compelling read than that, uh...

- Season's End. - Season's End, yes.

The truth is, Olivia, I couldn't put this down.

So...

(dramatic music)

Here is to your continued success

whatever it is you set your mind to do.

To Olivia.

- [All] Hear, hear.

- [Hetty] Cheers.

Oh.

(lively instrumental music)

(crickets chirping)

(bird hooting)

(dramatic orchestral music)