Waters,' she said.

'No, no, no,' said Dean Murnith; 'that is quite impossible. We could
call you Miss Rush if you like. How would Mary Rush do? Perhaps you
had better have another name--say Mary Jane Rush.'

So the little Wild Thing with the soul of the marshes took the names
that were offered her, and became Mary Jane Rush.

'And we must find something for you to do,' said Dean Murnith.
'Meanwhile we can give you a room here.'

'I don't want to do anything,' replied Mary Jane; 'I want to worship
God in the cathedral and live beside the marshes.'

Then Mrs. Murnith came in, and for the rest of that day Mary Jane
stayed at the house of the Dean.

And there with her new soul she
perceived the beauty of the world; for it came grey and level out
of misty distances, and widened into grassy fields and ploughlands
right up to the edge of an old gabled town; and solitary in the
fields far off an ancient windmill stood, and his honest hand-made
sails went round and round in the free East Anglian winds. Close by,
the gabled houses leaned out over the streets, planted fair upon
sturdy timbers that grew in the olden time, all glorying among
themselves upon their beauty. And out of them, buttress by buttress,
growing and going upwards, aspiring tower by tower, rose the
cathedral.