That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for Borroughs to arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to kill at least two birds with one stone, busied himself by cutting in on the regular telephone line and placing an extension of his own in a closet in the library.  To it he attached an ordinary telephone receiver fastened to an arrangement which was strange to me.  As nearly as I can describe it, between the diaphragm of the regular receiver and a brownish cylinder, like that of a phonograph, and with a needle attached, was fitted an air chamber of small size, open to the outer air by a small hole to prevent compression.

The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time to wait, for Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an evening had fairly begun until nine o’clock.

He arrived at last, however, rather tall, slight of figure, narrow-shouldered, designed for the latest models of imported fabrics.  It was evident merely by shaking hands with Burroughs that he thought both the Athertons and the Burroughses just the right combination.  He was one of those few men against whom I conceive an instinctive prejudice, and in this case I felt positive that, whatever faults the Atherton germ plasm might contain, he had combined others from the determiners of that of the other ancestors he boasted.  I could not help feeling that Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphere of social miasma as could be imagined.

Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that the real deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got along very well together.  Burroughs excused himself early, and we followed soon after.

“I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts,” remarked Kennedy the next day, after a night’s consideration of the case.

The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had been remodeled into an office building.  Huge cabinets were stacked up against the walls, and in them several women were engaged in filing blanks and card records.  Another part of the office consisted of an extensive library on eugenic subjects.

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.