He had scarcely ever alluded to his father before; but she made shift to answer him quietly.
"How old are you ?" "Eighteen!" he said.
"Then he has been dead eighteen years.

He died just as you were born.
Never mention him, lad.

He was a bad man, and by God's mercy you are delivered from him." She rose and went into the house quite cheerfully.

Why should she not?
Why should not a handsome, still young, wealthy widow be cheerful?
For she was a widow.

For years after settling at Toonarbin, she had contrived, once in two or three years, to hear some news of her husband.