CHAPTER XXXII
THE GERM PLASM
I regarded her with utter astonishment and yet found it impossible toaccount for such a feeling. I looked at Atherton, but on his face Icould see nothing but a sort of questioning fear that only increased myillusion, as if he, too, had only a vague, haunting premonition ofsomething terrible impending. Almost I began to wonder whether theAtherton house might not crumble under the fierceness of a suddenwhirlwind, while the two women in this case, one representing thewasted past, the other the blasted future, dragged Atherton down, asthe whole scene dissolved into some ghostly tarn. It was only for amoment, and then I saw that the more practical Kennedy had beenexamining some bottles on the lady's dresser before which we had paused.
One was a plain bottle of pellets which might have been somehomeopathic remedy.
"Whatever it is that is the matter with Eugenia," remarked Atherton,"it seems to have baffled the doctors so far."
Kennedy said nothing, but I saw that he had clumsily overturned thebottle and absently set it up again, as though his thoughts were faraway. Yet with a cleverness that would have done credit to a professorof legerdemain he had managed to extract two or three of the pellets.
"Yes," he said, as he moved slowly toward the staircase in the widehall, "most baffling."
Atherton was plainly disappointed. Evidently he had expected Kennedy toarrive at the truth and set matters right by some sudden piece ofwizardry, and it was with difficulty that he refrained from saying so.
"I should like to meet Burroughs Atherton," he remarked as we stood inthe wide hall on the first floor of the big house. "Is he a frequentvisitor?"
"Not frequent," hastened Quincy Atherton, in a tone that showed somesatisfaction in saying it. "However, by a lucky chance he has promisedto call to-night--a mere courtesy, I believe, to Edith, since she hascome to town on a visit."
"Good!" exclaimed Kennedy. "Now, I leave it to you, Atherton, to makesome plausible excuse for our meeting Burroughs here."
"I can do that easily."
"I shall be here early," pursued Kennedy as we left.
Back again in the laboratory to which Atherton insisted on accompanyingus in his car, Kennedy busied himself for a few minutes, crushing upone of the tablets and trying one or two reactions with some of thepowder dissolved, while I looked on curiously.
"Craig," I remarked contemplatively, after a while, "how about Athertonhimself? Is he really free from the--er--stigmata, I suppose you callthem, of insanity?"
"You mean, may the whole trouble lie with him?" he asked, not lookingup from his work.
"Yes--and the effect on her be a sort of reflex, say, perhaps theeffect of having sold herself for money and position. In other words,does she, did she, ever love him? We don't know that. Might it not preyon her mind, until with the kind help of his precious relatives evenNature herself could not stand the strain--especially in the delicatecondition in which she now finds herself?"
I must admit that I felt the utmost sympathy for the poor girl whom wehad just seen such a pitiable wreck.
Kennedy closed his eyes tightly until they wrinkled at the corners.
"I think I have found out the immediate cause of her trouble," he saidsimply, ignoring my suggestion.
"What is it?" I asked eagerly.
"I can't imagine how they could have failed to guess it, except thatthey never would have suspected to look for anything resemblingexophthalmic goiter in a person of her stamina," he answered,pronouncing the word slowly. "You have heard of the thyroid gland inthe neck?"
"Yes?" I queried, for it was a mere name to me.
"It is a vascular organ lying under the chin with a sort of littleisthmus joining the two parts on either side of the windpipe," heexplained. "Well, when there is any deterioration of those glandsthrough any cause, all sorts of complications may arise. The thyroid isone of the so-called ductless glands, like the adrenals above thekidneys, the pineal gland and the pituitary body. In normal activitythey discharge into the blood substances which are carried to otherorgans and are now known to be absolutely essential.
"The substances which they secrete are called 'hormones'--thosechemical messengers, as it were, by which many of the processes of thebody are regulated. In fact, no field of experimental physiology isricher in interest than this. It seems that few ordinary drugs approachin their effects on metabolism the hormones of the thyroid. In excessthey produce such diseases as exophthalmic goiter, and goiter isconcerned with the enlargement of the glands and surrounding tissuesbeyond anything like natural size. Then, too, a defect in the glandscauses the disease known as myxedema in adults and cretinism inchildren. Most of all, the gland seems to tell on the germ plasm of thebody, especially in women."
I listened in amazement, hardly knowing what to think. Did hisdiscovery portend something diabolical, or was it purely a defect innature which Dr. Crafts of the Eugenics Bureau had overlooked?
"One thing at a time, Walter," cautioned Kennedy, when I put thequestion to him, scarcely expecting an answer yet.
That night in the old Atherton mansion, while we waited for Borroughsto arrive, Kennedy, whose fertile mind had contrived to kill at leasttwo birds with one stone, busied himself by cutting in on the regulartelephone line and placing an extension of his own in a closet in thelibrary. To it he attached an ordinary telephone receiver fastened toan 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 anair chamber of small size, open to the outer air by a small hole toprevent compression.
The work was completed expeditiously, but we had plenty of time towait, for Borroughs Atherton evidently did not consider that an eveninghad 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 thoughtboth the Athertons and the Burroughses just the right combination. Hewas one of those few men against whom I conceive an instinctiveprejudice, and in this case I felt positive that, whatever faults theAtherton germ plasm might contain, he had combined others from thedeterminers of that of the other ancestors he boasted. I could not helpfeeling that Eugenia Atherton was in about as unpleasant an atmosphereof social miasma as could be imagined.
Burroughs asked politely after Eugenia, but it was evident that thereal deference was paid to Edith Atherton and that they got along verywell together. Burroughs excused himself early, and we followed soonafter.
"I think I shall go around to this Eugenics Bureau of Dr. Crafts,"remarked Kennedy the next day, after a night's consideration of thecase.
The Bureau occupied a floor in a dwelling house uptown which had beenremodeled into an office building. Huge cabinets were stacked upagainst the walls, and in them several women were engaged in filingblanks and card records. Another part of the office consisted of anextensive library on eugenic subjects.
Dr. Crafts, in charge of the work, whom we found in a little office infront partitioned off by ground glass, was an old man with an alert,vigorous mind on whom the effects of plain living and high thinkingshowed plainly. He was looking over some new blanks with a young womanwho seemed to be working with him, directing the force of clerks aswell as the "field workers," who were gathering the vast mass ofinformation which was being studied. As we introduced ourselves, heintroduced Dr. Maude Schofield.
"I have heard of your eugenic marriage contests," began Kennedy, "moreespecially 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 stockfarm."
"I see," commented Kennedy, who had no such idea, anyhow. He was alwayslenient with anyone who had what he often referred to as the "illusionof grandeur."
"We
advise people sometimes regarding the desirability or theundesirability of marriage," mollified Dr. Crafts. "This is a sort ofclearing 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 insuch a match. Her branch of the Gilmans has always been of thevigorous, pioneering type, as well as intellectual. Her father was oneof the foremost thinkers in the West; in fact had long held ideas onthe betterment of the race. You see that in the choice of a name forhis daughter--Eugenia."
"Then there were no recessive traits in her family," asked Kennedyquickly, "of the same sort that you find in the Athertons?"
"None that we could discover," answered Dr. Crafts positively.
"No epilepsy, no insanity of any form?"
"No. Of course, you understand that almost no one is what might becalled eugenically perfect. Strictly speaking, perhaps not over two orthree per cent. of the population even approximates that standard. Butit seemed to me that in everything essential in this case, weaknesslatent in Atherton was mating strength in Eugenia and the same way onher part for an entirely different set of traits."
"Still," considered Kennedy, "there might have been something latent inher family germ plasm back of the time through which you could traceit?"
Dr. Crafts shrugged his shoulders. "There often is, I must admit,something we can't discover because it lies too far back in the past."
"And likely to crop out after skipping generations," put in MaudeSchofield.
She evidently did not take the same liberal view in the practicalapplication of the matter expressed by her chief. I set it down to theardor of youth in a new cause, which often becomes the sanerconservatism of maturity.
"Of course, you found it much easier than usual to get at the truefamily history of the Athertons," pursued Kennedy. "It is an old familyand has been prominent for generations."
"Naturally," assented Dr. Crafts.
"You know Burroughs Atherton on both lines of descent?" asked Kennedy,changing the subject abruptly.
"Yes, fairly well," answered Crafts.
"Now, for example," went on Craig, "how would you advise him to marry?"
I saw at once that he was taking this subterfuge as a way of securinginformation which might otherwise have been withheld if asked fordirectly. Maude Schofield also saw it, I fancied, but this time saidnothing. "They had a grandfather who was a manic depressive on theAtherton side," said Crafts slowly. "Now, no attempt has ever been madeto breed that defect out of the family. In the case of Burroughs, it isperhaps a little worse, for the other side of his ancestry is not freefrom the taint of alcoholism."
"And Edith Atherton?"
"The same way. They both carry it. I won't go into the Mendelian law onthe subject. We are clearing up much that is obscure. But as toBurroughs, he should marry, if at all, some one without that particulartaint. I believe that in a few generations by proper mating most taintsmight be bred out of families."
Maude Schofield evidently did not agree with Dr. Crafts on some point,and, noticing it, he seemed to be in the position both of explaininghis contention to us and of defending it before his fair assistant.
"It is my opinion, as far as I have gone with the data," he added,"that there is hope for many of those whose family history showscertain nervous taints. A sweeping prohibition of such marriages wouldbe futile, perhaps injurious. It is necessary that the mating becarefully made, however, to prevent intensifying the taint. You see,though I am a eugenist I am not an extremist."
He paused, then resumed argumentatively: "Then there are otherquestions, too, like that of genius with its close relation to manicdepressive insanity. Also, there is decrease enough in the birth rate,without adding an excuse for it. No, that a young man like Athertonshould take the subject seriously, instead of spending his time in wilddissipation, like his father, is certainly creditable, argues in itselfthat there still must exist some strength in his stock.
"And, of course," he continued warmly, "when I say that weakness in atrait--not in all traits, by any means--should marry strength and thatstrength may marry weakness, I don't mean that all matches should belike that. If we are too strict we may prohibit practically allmarriages. In Atherton's case, as in many another, I felt that I shouldinterpret the rule as sanely as possible."
"Strength should marry strength, and weakness should never marry,"persisted Maude Schofield. "Nothing short of that will satisfy the trueeugenist."
"Theoretically," objected Crafts. "But Atherton was going to marry,anyhow. The only thing for me to do was to lay down a rule which hemight follow safely. Besides, any other rule meant sure disaster."
"It was the only rule with half a chance of being followed and at anyrate," drawled Kennedy, as the eugenists wrangled, "what differencedoes it make in this case? As nearly as I can make out it is Mrs.Atherton herself, not Atherton, who is ill."
Maude Schofield had risen to return to supervising a clerk who neededhelp. She left us, still unconvinced.
"That is a very clever girl," remarked Kennedy as she shut the door andhe scanned Dr. Crafts' face dosely.
"Very," assented the Doctor.
"The Schofields come of good stock?" hazarded Kennedy.
"Very," assented Dr. Crafts again.
Evidently he did not care to talk about individual cases, and I feltthat the rule was a safe one, to prevent Eugenics from becoming Gossip.Kennedy thanked him for his courtesy, and we left apparently on thebest of terms both with Crafts and his assistant.