Old Jolyon stood at the bottom of the bed, his hands folded in front of him.  He alone of those in the room remembered the death of his mother, and though he looked at Ann, it was of that he was thinking.  Ann was an old woman, but death had come to her at last—­death came to all!  His face did not move, his gaze seemed travelling from very far.

Aunt Hester stood beside him.  She did not cry now, tears were exhausted—­her nature refused to permit a further escape of force; she twisted her hands, looking not at Ann, but from side to side, seeking some way of escaping the effort of realization.

Of all the brothers and sisters James manifested the most emotion.  Tears rolled down the parallel furrows of his thin face; where he should go now to tell his troubles he did not know; Juley was no good, Hester worse than useless!  He felt Ann’s death more than he had ever thought he should; this would upset him for weeks!

Presently Aunt Hester stole out, and Aunt Juley began moving about, doing ‘what was necessary,’ so that twice she knocked against something.  Old Jolyon, roused from his reverie, that reverie of the long, long past, looked sternly at her, and went away.  James alone was left by the bedside; glancing stealthily round, to see that he was not observed, he twisted his long body down, placed a kiss on the dead forehead, then he, too, hastily left the room.  Encountering Smither in the hall, he began to ask her about the funeral, and, finding that she knew nothing, complained bitterly that, if they didn’t take care, everything would go wrong.  She had better send for Mr. Soames—­he knew all about that sort of thing; her master was very much upset, he supposed—­he would want looking after; as for her mistresses, they were no good—­they had no gumption!  They would be ill too, he shouldn’t wonder.  She had better send for the doctor; it was best to take things in time.  He didn’t think his sister Ann had had the best opinion; if she’d had Blank she would have been alive now.  Smither might send to Park Lane any time she wanted advice.  Of course, his carriage was at their service for the funeral.  He supposed she hadn’t such a thing as a glass of claret and a biscuit—­he had had no lunch!

The days before the funeral passed quietly.  It had long been known, of course, that Aunt Ann had left her little property to Timothy.  There was, therefore, no reason for the slightest agitation.  Soames, who was sole executor, took charge of all arrangements, and in due course sent out the following invitation to every male member of the family: 

To...........

Your presence is requested at the funeral of Miss Ann Forsyte, in Highgate Cemetery, at noon of Oct. 1st.  Carriages will meet at “The Bower,” Bayswater Road, at 10.45.  No flowers by request.  ‘R.S.V.P.’