And I _do_ want to go to school," interrupted Corona.

"I want to go to the Greycoats." "The Greycoats ?" This was an ancient foundation in the city, in origin a charity-school, but now distinguished from the ordinary Elementary Schools in that its pupils paid twopence a week, and wore a grey uniform provided _per contra_ from the funds of the charity.
"The Greycoats ?" repeated Brother Copas.

"But I had a mind for you to fly higher, if you understand--" Corona nodded.
"And so I shall; that is, uncle, if you'll teach me Latin, as you promised." She was easy in mind, since Miss Dickinson's canaries would be delivered.

The name "County Council" meant nothing to her, but it had affinity with other names and titles of romance--Captain Judgment, for instance, in _The Holy War_, and County Guy in the poetry book-- Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh-- Since Uncle Copas had said it, Miss Dickinson's hour was assuredly nigh.
"This is not the way, though," Corona protested.

"We are walking right away from the Greycoats!" Brother Copas halted.
"I supposed that I was taking you back to St.Hospital." "But you came out to put me to school, and I want to go to the Greycoats." He pondered a moment.
"Ah, well, have it your own way!" They turned back toward the city.