Amidst these vows and assurances of amendment, Boswell acknowledges that he had during the last two months “employed a great deal of time in gaming,” and had thereby wasted his means. Within three months he has forgotten Mary Anne, is again a visitor at Adamtown, and on his knees before Miss Blair. That lady is provokingly curt, and Boswell is assured by her mother that he had made such a joke of his love for her in every company that she was piqued.[47] After “this relapse of fever” has continued a few weeks he bids a second adieu to Adamtown, and determines to renew his addresses to Mary Anne. “Then,” he writes, “came a kind letter from my amiable aunt Boyd in Ireland, and all the charms of sweet Mary Anne revived. Since that time I have been quite constant to her, and as indifferent towards Kate as if I never had thought of her.... After her behaviour, do I, the candid, generous Boswell, owe her anything? Am I anyhow bound by passionate inclinations to which she did not even answer? Write to me, my dear friend. She will be here soon. I am quite easy with her. What should I do? By all that’s enchanting I go to Ireland in March!” To the letter just quoted Boswell adds two postscripts. In the first he intimates that he is “a good deal in debt.” In the second, he remarks, “My present misfortune is occasioned by drinking. Since my return to Scotland I have fallen a great deal too much into that habit, which still prevails in Scotland. Perhaps the coldness of the Scots requires it, but my young blood is turned to madness by it. This will be a warning to me, and from henceforth I shall be a perfect man; at least, I hope so.” Confessions which close the letter strongly proved that the writer’s aspirations after perfection were altogether illusory.