As for the poor artist, my dear, some people said it was the profuse use of spirit that brought on delirium tremens; but I don't believe it.

Take another glass of Rosolio." The telling of this story always put my aunt into great good-humour, and she promised at the end of it to pay for the new setting of the diamond; desiring me to take it on my arrival in London to the great jeweller, Mr.
Polonius, and send her the bill.

"The fact is," said she, "that the gold in which the thing is set is worth five guineas at the very least, and you can have the diamond reset for two.

However, keep the remainder, dear Sam, and buy yourself what you please with it." With this the old lady bade me adieu.

The clock was striking twelve as I walked down the village, for the story of Mulcahy always took an hour in the telling, and I went away not quite so downhearted as when the present was first made to me.