"Yes. But now I must go. Kiss me. You will kiss me?" He seemed to doubt it.
"Oh! yes," they cried, and cast their little arms about him while he held them in a long embrace, loath to let them go.
"O Alice!" said Hugh, "Mr. Khwis is cwying. What's the matter, Mr. Khwis?"
"Nothing," he said. "Once I had two little children, and you see you look like them, and—and I have not seen them this long while."
Alice silently reflected on the amount of presents which Kris's children must have, but Hugh said:
"We are bofe wewy sorry for you, Mr. Khwis."
"Thank you," he returned, "I shall remember that, and now be still a little, I must write to your mother, and you must give her my letter after she has my present."
"Yes," said Alice, "we will."
Then Kris lit a candle and took paper and pen from the table, and as they sat quietly waiting, full of the marvel of this famous adventure, he wrote busily, now and then pausing to smile on them, until he closed and gave the letter to the boy.
"Be careful of these things," he said, "for now I must go."