TIE IRMA the IRRESISTIBLE
3SSSKSSZ& * WALTER CL ASTON
Compelling BeautyBrilliant Negro fiction Writer
As an Artist’s Model, Verna Receives Her First Recognition in New York;
She is Intrigued by the Ultra*Modern Life of Greenwich Village
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WHAT HAS GONE BEFORE—
Verna Nash, remarkably beautiful daughter ef a shiftless family, re
fuses to remain in her lowly station and decides to amount to something in
life. Against the advice of her mother, she spurns Dick Colviu. an uncouth
laborer, and is rescued from his forced attentions one night by Donald.
Baxter, a slickster, from Kalesburg, a neighboring city. Irresistibly drawn
to her. Donald lavishes attentions on her without avail. She finally con
sents to take a position as night club entertainer at his cabaret. Dick Col
vin unsuccessfully attempts to prevent her. In Kalesburg, Donald takes
Verna to Mrs. Quill’s rooming house, where she is locked in a back room
but after many adventures she escapes and meets Rev. Hugh Godfrey, a
handsome young clergyman, who befriends her and falls immediately in love
with her. As she does not want to spoil her chances for individual success,
she refuses his proffer of marriage.
Finding as little opportunity in Kalesburg as there was in Norrisburg
for a colored girl, and learning that Dick Colvin is coming to town, she
leaves for Welch. W. Va., where, as waitress in a Negro restaurant, she is1
very popular and is pursued by Dr. Charlie Meyers, a dentist. In order to
escape his ardent attentions, she goes to work for a mine superintendent
some miles in the hills where, after six or seven months, she meets the
superintendent’s artist daughter, Margot Yancey, who raves over Verna’s
beauty and her wonderful soprano voice, and offers to help her if she ever
comes to New York City. In this Verna sees a realization of her dreams,
so when Dick Colvin intercepts her one night at an Elks’ dance and there
is a fight between him and Dr. Meyers, her escort, she becomes disgusted
and leaves the coal fields for New York City.
NOW GO ON WITH THE STORY
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE BEAUX ARTS BALL
Smartly dressed in a grass green
ensemble and carrying a new yellow
traveling bag, Verna looked more
beautiful than ever as she descend
ed from the taxicab in front of Mar
got Yancey’s studio on West Ninth
Street. New York City, on the edge
of Greenwich Village. The chauffeur
and two or three passersby stared in
admiration as she tripped lightly up
tlie steps of the impressive brown
stone fronted house and sounded the
polished brass knocker.
Verna’s mind was a whirl of new
Impressions, a jumble of skyscrapers,
traffic, city noises, a newly experi
enced courtesy unknown to her in
her Southern hometown, pmd the
memory of her long journey from
West Virginia. As she waited for
the door to be answered, she won
dered what her reception would be,
whether she would live in this grand
house or not, how soon before she
would see Harlem, the Negro capital.
Verna, the Model
Miss Yancey answered the door
herself, arrayed in artist’s smock, her
fingers stained with paints.
“Why, Verna!” she exclaimed,
“come right in, child. I had no idea
that you would be here so soon. Take
your things right up stairs. You
came at the right time; I’ve got a
South Sea illustration and I’ll use
vou for the model.”
“Oh, Miss Yancey,” the dark girl
replied, “I don’t know that I can be
a model; I’ve never tried it.”
“Nonsense! It really isn’t anything.
All you've got to do is to sit still in
the position I put you. It’ll be an
excellent beginning for you, Verna.
I think I can get you lots of work
around here with my friends and
you’ll be paid seventy-five cents an
hour.”
Verna mumbled her thanks, and
tears of gratitude stood in her eyes
as she unpacked her things in the
little charming bedroom to which Miss
Yancey assigned her on the third
floor. All of her dreams seemed to
be coming true. She unconsciously
pinched herself to see if she were
really awake.
She found the job of posing to be
very simple, but exacting. For long
hours she sat on a pedestal or leaned
on a support while Margot Yancey
sketched and painted her in various
costumes and poses, and often with
out any costume at all.
“Oh, really now,” the statuesque
Margot would drawl in her nearest
approach to enthusiasm, “you are
quite ideal, Verna.”
Sometimes while they were at
work, a friend or two would drop in
for a chat. Invariably they raved
when they saw Verna’s exquisite
figure. In a fortnight three or four
artists were clamoring for her serv
►ices and in five or six weeks the
whole village was raving over the
new “find” of Margot Yancey.
►to have an artist use her body for*
a picture, paint it yellow and change
her features and hair to that of a
Japanese maiden. The mystery of
the canvas and paint held her as in
a thrall.
She Becomes a Hit
And then there were the enthusi
astic comments of the artists. They
liked her for the perfect specimen
of humanity that she was and she
learned to appreciate her charms
even more than ever before. These
people, working with the most beau
tiful models, declared again and
again that she possessed the most
perfect feminine form they had ever
seen, so she had to believe it.
She assumed a new, haughtier bear
ing and an aristocratic swing that
enhanced her beauty a hundred times.
She quickly learned the graceful, un
hurried mannerisms of the salon, the
secrets of perfect makeup, the art
of color combinations, the easy but
►legion. i
For once she felt delightfully,
gloriously satisfied and at peace. She
was surrounded by people of educa
tion, culture and refinement, she
averaged thirty dollars a week, she.
had the leisure ta cultivate her great
natural charms and no men were
pestering her to marry them. To be
sure, the aristocrats, the wasters, the
critics and the students who visited
the studio of Margot eyed Verna
admiringly, flattered her, occasional
ly danced with her and three or four
times took her to lunch or dinner at
the International Restaurant, Pirates’
Den, or some other smart place
where she was always the center of
attention; but none of the men made
any overtures. Because they were
in awe of her or in fear of Margot
Yancey, they avoided any of the pro
posals she had heard from the lips
! of Dick Colvin, Donald Baxter, Hugh
i Godfrey, and Dr. Charlie Meyers.
Verna Receives a Warning
“Don’t be fooled by these men,”
“Margot Yancey painted her in various costumes and poses and often without any cos
tume at all.”
Verna was enjoying it tremen
dously. Sometimes she posed as a
I nymph, sometimes as a Chinese or
'Greek or African. It interested her
exacting etiquette of the studio. She
became, in short, a sepia edition of
the graceful Margot Yancey, whose
male admirers in the village were
Margot warned her when she spoke
of it. “There are dozens of them
crazy about you right now, dear, but
they are a little in awe because you
►are colored and they are white, ana
because you are under my wing. II
you weren’t living here, you’d see
how quickly they would make ad
vances. II it were not for the criti
cism of society, any of these men
would be proud to marry you, but the
difference in race prevents that.
‘They would love to have an affair
with you, but they are afraid to
troach the subject because you live
with me. They’ll not hold off very
long, though, so I warn you to be
careful. To a girl as beautiful as
you are, men will offer anything, and
there are men rich enough to offer
anything who often come to visit us.”
Margot smiled wisely and protect
ingly, drew indulgently upon a long
Russian cigarette and shifted her po
sition on the chaise lounge.
Three months after Verna’s advent
to Greenwich Village, the annual
Beaux Arts Ball was announced. The
ball was always the occasion for the
artists, artists’ models, scenic artists,
interior decorators and other people
of the Bohemian set to wear their
most elaborate costumes amid the
most gorgeous and exotic scenery.
“Verna,” drawled Margot, “you
must go by all means. You’ll really
be a sensation. We’ll get you up as
the Queen of Sheba. Fred Watkins
will make the costume and Will Ran
doski will make the palanquin for
you to be carried in. We’ll get a
quartet of big handsome black fellows
from Harlem to bear it and dress
them as Egyptian serving men. Oh,
it’ll just be grand.”
“But,” interrupted Verna, “won’t
there be some objection to er,—me
at such a swell affair?”
“Nonsense!” said Margot. “No one
will dare to object to my guest. Be
sides, Honey, this is Greenwich Vil
lage, New York City, and not the
Solid South. Everybody will be de
lighted. There may be a few narrow
minded persons about but they don’t
count; besides, most of them drop
their silly prejudices when they en
ter this life. They have to."
There was much hustle and bustle
in the artists’ colony getting ready
for the annual affair scheduled to
be the most elaborate in history.
Verna was as excited as the rest.
Two or three times she went over to
Fred Watkins's studio to see the
progress of her costume, or to Will
Rondoski’s little basement shop to
watch the building of the palatial sil
vered palanquin.
“The Ethiopian Love Song”
Margot had said that when the
time came for stunts, Verna must
sing a song; so Verna began to hunt
for something appropriate. Nothing
trite or commonplace would do, but
she could find nothing else. Then,
one day Margot swept into the studio
with eyes agleam.
“I’ve got just the thing,” she cried
excitedly. “It’s Wendell Dalton’s very
latest piece, ‘The Ethiopian Love
Song.’ ”
“Who is Wendell Dalton?" asked
Verna, wondering and curious, as
Margot seated herself at the baby
grand piano and began to run over
the piece.
“Who is Wendell Dalton?” echoed
Margot, facing her incredulously.
“Why, don’t you know? Say, Verna,
he is the swellest, handsomest col
ored fellow I’ve ever seen; a college
graduate, the very soul of culture;
tall, aristocratic and one of our lead
ing composers. I’ll have him down
to tea sometime so you can meet
him.”
Between Margot Yancey, Fred Wat
kins and Will Rondoski, Verna cer
tainly looked more like the Queen of
Sheba than it had been possible for
Continued on Page Four