was a peer in the rapidly
crystallizing American aristocracy, inferior only to the haughty Old
Families. (In Zenith, an Old Family is one which came to town before
1840.) His power was the greater because he was not hindered by
scruples, by either the vice or the virtue of the older Puritan
tradition.

McKelvey was being placidly merry now with the great, the manufacturers
and bankers, the land-owners and lawyers and surgeons who had chauffeurs
and went to Europe. Babbitt squeezed among them. He liked McKelvey's
smile as much as the social advancement to be had from his favor. If in
Paul's company he felt ponderous and protective, with McKelvey he felt
slight and adoring.

He heard McKelvey say to Max Kruger, the banker, "Yes, we'll put up Sir
Gerald Doak." Babbitt's democratic love for titles became a rich relish.
"You know, he's one of the biggest iron-men in England, Max. Horribly
well-off.... Why, hello, old Georgie! Say, Max, George Babbitt is
getting fatter than I am!"

The chairman shouted, "Take your seats, fellows!"

"Shall we make a move, Charley?" Babbitt said casually to McKelvey.

"Right. Hello, Paul! How's the old fiddler? Planning to sit anywhere
special, George? Come on, let's grab some seats. Come on, Max. Georgie,
I read about your speeches in the campaign. Bully work!"

After that, Babbitt would have followed him through fire. He was
enormously busy during the dinner, now bumblingly cheering Paul, now
approaching McKelvey with "Hear, you're going to build some piers in
Brooklyn," now noting how enviously the failures of the class, sitting
by themselves in a weedy group, looked up to him in his association with
the nobility, now warming himself in the Society Talk of McKelvey and
Max Kruger. They spoke of a "jungle dance" for which Mona Dodsworth
had decorated her house with thousands of orchids. They spoke, with an
excellent imitation of casualness, of a dinner in Washington at
which McKelvey had met a Senator, a Balkan princess, and an English
major-general. McKelvey called the princess "Jenny," and let it be known
that he had danced with her.

Babbitt was thrilled, but not so weighted with awe as to be silent. If
he was not invited by them to dinner, he was yet accustomed to talking
with bank-presidents, congressmen, and clubwomen who entertained poets.
He was bright and referential with McKelvey:

"Say, Charley, juh remember in Junior year how we chartered a sea-going
hack and chased down