IN THE BOOMING NANNY BUSINESS, MANY WANT IN

behind them in the cubicle. The cards bore the names of others looking for work, and their number — and diversity — was instructive: Erin Golden, Faria Ichola, Dragana Babic, Jennifer O’Sullivan, Zenobia Love.

“This is actually one of the saddest times I’ve ever experienced in this business,” said Keith Greenhouse, who helps his brother run the agency. “I’ve just never seen this number of people who are practically begging us for work.”

In an era of luxury for the masses, a full-time domestic staff is a status symbol that truly sets one apart, a tangible way of separating the genuinely loaded from the simply well-to-do. With tongue-incheek candor, the owners of many staffing companies recalled that members of this upper class, their highest-net-worth clients, suddenly discovered in the fall of 2008 that something called the Economy existed and that — who knew? — it could violently head south.

This discovery, the owners said, produced in their customers a desire to rein in staffing costs (if not the staffs themselves). It also created social discomfort with appearing too privileged at a moment of national hardship.

“People became skittish,” said David Crimmins, a manager at the Lindquist Group, another staffing agency in Manhattan. “Even though they had money to spend, they felt they had to pull back slightly because it wasn’t in vogue to have three or four people in your home.”

Job applicants have clearly felt the combined effects of this anxiety and increased fiscal shrewdness. The Pavillion Agency, for one, receives about 300 phone calls from applicants each week and another 300 queries over e-mail. Of these 600 inquiries, Keith Greenhouse said, many, if not most, are rejected out of hand. Of those that remain, he added, perhaps a dozen or so will actually find jobs.

“The superrich are never going to clean their own homes — they’re still going to hire,” said Al Martino, who has run the Al Martino Domestic Staffing Agency in Manhattan since 1972. “But what you find today is that they’re — how should I say it? — very, very particular about who they want to hire.”

Because the available pool of labor is exceptionally deep and because the competition is particularly fierce for the most secure and highest-paying jobs, the superrich, Martino and others said, are beginning to scrimp on salaries and to require employees to take on multiple duties. Employers are looking to combine household tasks into economizing hybrids: the nanny who can also whip up dinner for the children and their parents, or the driver who can double as a handyman.

The best domestic jobs still pay exceedingly well. European nannies with college educations and the command of several languages (mere bilingualism is passe) can earn as much as $120,000 a year on top of room and board. Private drivers can take home annual salaries of up to $75,000, with bonuses for overtime. Top chefs with experience in three- or four-star restaurants and the ability to handle special dietary needs can make as much as $140,000 a year.

Frequently, however, the tradeoffs for obtaining these positions are salaries that are open for negotiation, flexible work hours and enhanced scrutiny of the applicant’s personal and professional lives. Background checks delving into driving, credit and criminal histories are the standard in the industry. But now, more and more agencies are keeping private investigators on retainer, owners say, to conduct more thorough searches of those applying for jobs.

In part to avoid misunderstandings with clients, firms like Pavillion undertake highly detailed interviews of their candidates, 30- or 40-minute sessions where the questions asked indicate, by inference, the needs, desires and, some might say, the neuroses of employers.

Can the private chef cook organic, gluten-free, locally sourced, no-salt vegan cuisine? Would the nanny mind blowing out the lady of the house’s hair before she steps out for a night on the town? Has the driver ever had tuberculosis or a bum knee?

Bethelmie went through this process the first week in October, answering similar questions (yes, she would in fact mind working for a family that traveled frequently to 27 different countries) and being asked for a photo of herself. (“Something wholesome,” Mallano said, “maybe outside in a park?”) By the middle of the month, her references had been checked — they turned out to be excellent — and her resume was sent to three potential families.

She was hoping for a job with an annual salary of at least $75,000 — in the lower register of the uppermost bracket.

“But the competition’s tough,” Mallano said. “It isn’t easy. Most of these families see five or 10 or even 15 applicants before they make a decision.”

Needless to say, Bethelmie was waiting.