Rich people hanging around chatting, fancy sculpted hedges, well-tended flower beds, servants in dark professional outfits wandering around with trays of snacks and drinks offer her some. The orchestra seems to be playing in a big central sort of area.
She catches snatches of gossip while walking by. Ignoring the inane or personal bits and focusing on gossip that sounds relevant:
"...hardly a luxurious trip, but it's very cheap, see, even common workers will be able to afford a ticket once in a while..."
"...You looking forward to the fireworks? My father says they can just replace the fuss- er, the phosphorescent chemicals with iron balls and make shells to fight the demons with!"
"I'm just glad we managed to petition them to move the station to the north end of the city where it won't be so noisy..."
"...The Crown's money contributed as well, and I made an investment into the rail line myself, but..."
"...They say the whole of Britannia will be criss-crossed with rail lines in twenty years." "If the Neuroi don't get us first." "Oh, toss, that's negative thinking. The war effort is really getting into swing lately, what with all the new taxes..."