Next day the floor of the House was crowded and the galleries packed. Administration and anti-administration people were interested. Society turned out in force to hear the revelations about the late Russian Minister--the private and diplomatic galleries were filled. The Senate was not in session, and many Senators were on the floor. After the morning hour, and the droning through of some unimportant business, the leader of the majority rose, and demanded the consideration of the resolution of inquiry relating to the recall of the Russian Minister from this country. At that a hush fell upon the crowd. The leader of the opposition rose to reply. He stated briefly that it was a matter concerning the Foreign Affairs Committee, and a member of one of the sub-committees had sole charge of it owing to the illness of the chairman. Another member then rose, and sarcastically referring to the fact that the gentleman referred to could scarcely be supposed to entertain friendly feelings toward the representative of the only foreign government which showed the slightest sympathy toward the Union in the Civil War, demanded to know by what right had the Russian Minister’s position in Washington been made untenable--and that too, at the time of the visit of a member of the Czar’s family--and was this the return the United States Government made for the Czar’s extreme friendliness? Then Pembroke stood up in his place, at a considerable distance from the Speaker. This gave him a great advantage, for it showed the fine resonant quality of his voice, clear and quite free from rant and harshness. Olivia Berkeley, who watched him from the front row in the gallery, saw that he was pale, but perfectly self-possessed. As he caught her eye, in rising, he smiled at her. “Mr. Speaker.” The Speaker fixed his piercing eyes upon him, and with a light tap of the gavel, said “The gentleman from Virginia has the floor.” Pembroke used no notes. He began in a clear and dignified manner to recite the part taken by him in Volkonsky’s case--his suspicions, his demand for documents from the State Department, Volkonsky’s compromising letters, of which he read copies--the dilemma of the Department, anxious not to offend Russia but indignant at the baseness of Volkonsky--the further complication of the Grand Duke’s visit, and all which followed. He then read his statement of what had occurred at his interviews with Volkonsky, and which he had filed at the State Department.