There are few things lower than shorting the help, but somehow our presidents seem to find nominees who manage to do just that, and whose excuses when they are caught are even more annoying than the original offense.

To quote one aghast reader who took the trouble to e-mail me after Ms. Killefer's little problem hit the news: "Too bad someone who does wrong can't just come out and say they were wrong and apologize, rather than blame it on the unnamed critics who would rightfully criticize them for this.

"They don't seem to understand," Devoted Reader went on, "that when they don't pay the payroll taxes for their domestic help, they are not only depriving many other Americans of the advantages of funding Social Security and Medicare (which certainly need the money), but they are denying the lower-income people who work for them the ability to receive benefits one day. It's not fair, especially to millions of Americans who do the right thing by paying their taxes."

Beyond the fiscal ramifications of this kind of dereliction, what does it say about the culture of our new elite? Didn't there used to be an unwritten code in the best households about treating the help right? Wasn't that supposed to be the test of a true gentleman. And lady.

What ever happened to our sense of noblesse oblige, if anyone even uses the term any more? Once upon a time it didn't have to be used; it was simply understood. It was part of the fabric not just of the household but of society. Rank had not just its privileges but its obligations, and the best people were those who lived up to them. No more.

Now to inquire about such things is just a distraction.

In all this cloud of Clintonesque deja vu, there was one refreshing whiff of candor, and that came when our still new president -- very new -- made a point of going before the television cameras and talking straight. Barack Obama, who was still standing behind his appointment of Tom Daschle 24 hours before -- "absolutely" -- had seen the (klieg) light by yesterday, and was fessing up in one television interview after another: "I'm frustrated with myself, with our team ... I'm here on television to say I screwed up."

That was the one direct, unqualified apology in this whole farce. (It's too low, and the characters too ignoble, to call this a tragedy.) How refreshing. Also clear, concise and to-the-point. The president's comment gives one hope. For apology is the beginning of humility, and humility the beginning of wisdom. The education of Barack Obama proceeds apace, and his taking responsibility for his choices indicates he may yet prove an apt pupil.