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.