Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little office in front partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man with an alert, vigorous mind on whom the effects of plain living and high thinking showed plainly. He was looking over some new blanks with a young woman who seemed to be working with him, directing the force of clerks as well as the “field workers,” who were gathering the vast mass of information which was being studied. As we introduced ourselves, he introduced Dr. Maude Schofield.
“I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests,” began Kennedy, “more especially of what you have done for Mr. Quincy Atherton.”
“Well—not exactly a contest in that case, at least,” corrected Dr. Crafts with an indulgent smile for a layman.
“No,” put in Dr. Schofield, “the Eugenics Bureau isn’t a human stock farm.”
“I see,” commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was always lenient with anyone who had what he often referred to as the “illusion of grandeur.”
“We advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or the undesirability of marriage,” mollified Dr. Crafts. “This is a sort of clearing house for scientific race investigation and improvement.”
“At any rate,” persisted Kennedy, “after investigation, I understand, you advised in favor of his marriage with Miss Gilman.”
“Yes, Eugenia Gilman seemed to measure well up to the requirements in such a match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of the vigorous, pioneering type, as well as intellectual. Her father was one of the foremost thinkers in the West; in fact had long held ideas on the betterment of the race. You see that in the choice of a name for his daughter—Eugenia.”
“Then there were no recessive traits in her family,” asked Kennedy quickly, “of the same sort that you find in the Athertons?”
“None that we could discover,” answered Dr. Crafts positively.